Modern European philosophy, the history of modern philosophy, psychologically treated

T1

MODERN

EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY

The History of Modern Philosophy
Psychologically Treated.

BY

DENTON J. SNIDER.

ST. LOUIS, MO.

SIGMA PUBLISHING CO.

210 PINE ST.

COPYRIGHT BY
D. .1. SNIDER, 1904.

NIXON-JONES PTQ. CO.. 215 PINE ST., ST. LOUIS.

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PROF. HOWARD SANDISON

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CONTENTS.

PART FIRST. THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY -
RENASCENCE .

FACIE.

INTRODUCTION f>

1. DESCARTES " . . 28

2. SPINOZA . . . 118

3. LEIBNIZ 278

PART SECOND. THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY —

REVOLUTION .
INTRODUCTION ... 368

1. LOCKE 389

2. HUME . . 45C)

3. KANT 493

PART THIRD. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY —

EVOLUTION. ........ 4

INTRODUCTION . . . . 595

1. HEGEL ... , . 610

2. DARWIN .... . . 820

3. PlIYSlO-PSYCIIISM ...... 824

(3)

IP art Jfirst

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.—
RENASCENCE.

Modern Philosophy, emancipated and self-
unfolding, properly begins its new historic career
in the Seventeenth Century. Undoubtedly men
were philosophizing in an independent Spirit
during the preceding Century. We cannot deny
to Bruno, Boehme, and Bacon the name of phi
losophers. But their works are more in the
nature of protests against the past, irregular
excursions into the future, prophetic intimations
of the coming science. In the Seventeenth Cen
tury, however, the philosophic Norm itself is
re-born and is made to hold the new thought of
the age which is thus the true Renascence of
Philosophy .

6 MODERN EUROPEAN' PHILOSOPHY.

With this Century, then, we begin our his
toric account of Modern European Philosophy,
and embrace in it three supreme men, Descartes,
Spinoza and Leibniz. Looked at through the
intervening Centuries, these three are seen to be
the loftiest peaks of thought, though between
them and around them lie lesser heights which
are likewise mountainous. The latter, however,
we shall have to pass by in the present survey,
and concentrate our attention upon those who
express the three distinctive phases of the phi
losophy of the Seventeenth Century, and show its
process not only in their systems of thought but
also in their lives and characters.

I. The great historical fact of this Century
was the terrific struggle between Southern and
Northern Europe, between the Latin and Teutonic
Peoples, between the old Mediterranean civiliza
tion with its stress upon authority and the new
born civilization beyond the Alps with its stress
upon freedom. The German tribes and the Ger
man emperors during the Middle Ages had a
tendency to go South, to • become fused with
Latin Peoples and permeated with Latin culture.
But now the situation is changed. Something
has departed or is departing from the Latin or
Latinized Peoples which they are desperately
seeking to recover and retain. In the preceding
Fifteenth Century the shifting had already be
gun to take place with the Reformation. Teu-

TEE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 7

tonia had previously sought her center outside of
herself, in the South ; but now she has found
her center within herself. The result is, the
Latin world, both in Church and State, conies
North and tries to recapture the fugitive, and
to subject her to a fresh domination. But such
was not to be the outcome of their effort. The
separation had taken place forever. And that
was not all. The Spirit of the Ages, Civiliza
tion, the World-Spirit, or whatever else it may
be called, having hovered around the Mediter
ranean shores from East to West for thousands
of years, breaks the course of its flight, and,
wheeling Northward and crossing the lofty
Alpine watershed of Europe, finds its new home.

Now the grand object of the Latin Peoples
during the Seventeenth Century was in some way
to bring back to its former abode or to control
in its new abode the Spirit which had distinctly
chosen the Teutonic world as its supporter and
representative. The Latin Church will use all
its spiritual power with unparalleled skill and per
sistency; the Latin States, Spain and France, and
even the German Emperor, will employ all their
political forces in wars which last generations;
but it is to no purpose, or rather their mighty
endeavors deepen the rift and establish the more
firmly the new seat of Civilization.

II. We naturally ask : What was the principle
at stake in this desperate conflict? It is indeed

8 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

just the function of Philosophy to grasp such
a principle and to formulate it in categories.
Philosophy, if it be worth anything, reflects the
deepest fact of its age in the most universal form.
The man as such has come to the front in the
North and is asserting the supreme human value
of himself against the crushing might of exter
nal dominion in Church and State. The indi
vidual has arisen and demands that, if he is to
live an institutional life, he must have a part at
least in establishing the institutions which he
obeys. The Ego, the selfhood of man, having
become aware of itself and its worth, will not be
put down till its right be recognized. When
Descartes in Holland says : 1 think therefore I
am, he speaks of the thinking, self-conscious
Ego affirming its existence, affirming that it now
truly is, but before was not, at least not in its
present significance. The European man has
come to know himself, yea to know his Self, and
with it the meaning of all Selfhood. With such
knowledge the Church, the State, all Institutions
as well the moral life are to be transformed,
gradually but surely. Such a transformation
unrolls the modern world and carries it down
through the later centuries till the present. Sci
ence also is to undergo a marvelous metamorpho
sis, and Philosophy begins a new independent
career, quite parallel to her ancient movement,
no longer a handmaiden, but a free discipline

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 9

unfolding in her own right. Thus she becomes
young again, fresh and interesting.

The free man in the North is to make a free
world, or at least relatively free, both theoreti
cally and practically, both in the realm of thought
and of action. The liberated Ego, having become
aware internally of its own enfranchisement starts
about its task which is to produce a correspond
ing outer enfranchisement. This is the all-domi
nating task of the Seventeenth Century, begetting
a wrestle not only of contending nations but also
of contending civilizations. Now it is the func
tion of Philosophy to give the pure reflection of
this mightiest struggle of its age in the trans
parent forms of Thought, impersonal, unim-
passioned, universal.

But this vast striving for freedom calls up the
enemy, who is thereby deprived of his accus
tomed domination. Already we have designated
the organized Latin world to be the possessors
and upholders of the ancient order. With it,
therefore, begins the fight which has three lead
ing phases, political, religious and maritime, each
of which we may briefly note.

III. Already in the Fifteenth Century a small
Teutonic country in North-Western Europe had
made itself the political center of the new epoch.
The Netherlands declared their independence of
Spain, a Latin country, and formed the Dutch
Republic. Eighty years the conflict lasted, ex-

10 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

tending into the Sixteenth Century and only
ending with the Peace of Westphalia. In this
long war terminating in the freedom of the
Dutch, Latin domination, both in Church and
State, received its hardest blow. The small self-
determined State showed on all sides the re
newed worth of the free man : Commerce flour
ished, Science advanced, a mighty forward
movement of the Spirit took place. In fact it
may be said that the Dutch Republic at this
time stood in the very front of the new epoch
and bore the chief burden of the rising Civiliza
tion.

Thus she drove out one Latin assailant, but it
was only to call up another and nearer. In the
person of Louis XIV, France assumed the task
of vindicating the Latin heritage in State and
Church, and with right instinct aimed its
blows at the Eepublic in the North. But again
the outcome was failure for the assailant, the
Latin nation had to fall back into its boundaries,
and to suffer the small Teutonic State to pursue
its own inner free development in its own way.
Even strong, large France could not turn the
World-Spirit, and the absolute Monarch had to
give up his ambition to put himself in the place
of Civilization.

Now it was this region of Dutch liberty to
which Philosophy took her flight in the Seven
teenth Century. Descartes, the greatest French-

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 11

man of his age, left his native country and all
the charms of its fair capital to dwell in the
Netherlands, foggy but free. In fact he could
not philosophize in France ; if he was to utter
the oracle of the Spirit of the Age, he had to go
to its shrine. His flight from the Latin world
to the Teutonic Republic was in deep correspond
ence with what Civilization itself was doing. Thus
he showed himself a typical man, performing the
typical act of his epoch in making with it his
deepest spiritual transition.

In the same general locality rose and wrought
the next philosopher, Spinoza, being one step re
moved in descent from the Spanish Peninsula.
Born in Holland of Jewish parents who had fled
from the Inquisition of the South, and witness
ing in his mature manhood the attack of France
upon his native land, he took up into his spiritthe
Latin and Teutonic dualism as no other thinker
of his time, reproducing it in all its depth and in
tensity, we may say in all its ferocity, since that
God of his is the Absolute One devouring every
form of individuality, which, however, rises up
and asserts itself, even to the point of re-con
structing God Himself in and through intellec
tual love. Finally Leibniz, the third supreme
philosopher of the Century, is a born Teuton,
living most of his life not far from the Low
Countries and representing in many ways the
Teutonic Spirit seeking to free itself from its

12 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Latin tutelage, yet never fully succeeding in the
attempt during the present Century.

IV. The name of Leibniz recalls the fact that
he was born two years preceding the Peace
of Westphalia and so passed his active life in the
Germany which resulted from the Thirty Years'
War. The motive of this war was chiefly re
ligious, though political ends also played in.
The Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, in
obedience to the Latin Church, sought to ex
tirpate all heresy, that is, all difference of
opinion in religious matters. The outcome of
the War gave equality to the Protestant de
nominations, and the Old Church was forced to
acknowledge that the new religion had come
to stay. Luther's doctrine of justification by
faith had borne its fruit : the individual was to
work out his own salvation.

Thus the chief Latin authority in Europe was
broken in twain, after a final attempt to overcome
the Spirit of the Age. The individual in re
ligion had asserted his claim in the North. But
the Latin Church did not propose to give up; it
still had much work to do in stamping out heresv
within its own territory. The Order of Jesuits
and the Inquisition took up the cause, but could
not reach the Spirit which was cherished and
protected in the Teutonic countries. What could
not be done by force was sought to be accom
plished by cunning, by secret intimidation, and

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 13

even by education. But in spite of all changes,
the division remained, and the individualistic
character of the Protestant religion has been left
free to bear its fruits, good and bad.

But one result is certain : Philosophy as an
independent discipline has remained a Protestant,
and has unfolded to its full bloom in Teutonic
lands. Ever since Descartes fled from his own
Latin France and philosophized in a Northern
country, thus indicating the great transition of
the Seventeenth Century, Philosophy has stayed
where he brought it, and has developed in its own
free way through the succeeding Centuries. This
does not mean that Philosophy was not studied
in the Catholic Schools but that it was essentially
determined in its purpose from the outside, es
pecially through Theology. It was not free in
its development, and hence could not adequately
reflect the new Spirit. It would almost seem as
if the Latin Church burned Philosophy herself
at the stake along with Bruno at Rome in the
opening year of the Seventeenth Century. At
any rate the Latin peoples have produced no su
preme philosopher after him, perhaps none equal
to him in originality. Bruno's influence also
crossed the Alps, and left his impress upon the
systems of Spinoza and Leibniz, not to speak of
lesser philosophers.

V. Another great sphere in which the struggle
between the Latin and Teutonic peoples mani-

14 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

fested itself in the Seventeenth Century was the
maritime. It was the Mediterranean navigators
who first broke into the unknown seas and made
the great discovery of a new, extra-European
world, which was to be possessed by Europe.
In particular to America was brought the two
fold division of Europe into North and South,
each with its corresponding character. The re
sult was that Teutonic and Latin separation, with
the accompanying political and religious institu
tions, appeared in North and South America.
The ships of the Spanish and English mariners
did not simply carry merchandise and human
bodies, but the two conflicting ideas of their
peoples, yea, of their respective races. It was
not long before their two ideas began clashing
on the seas, the question being, Which of them
is to rule the boundless billowy element encom
passing the globe. Spain made one herculean
effort to reach the seat of this new naval Spirit,
which was only another form of that Spirit
of the Ages or of Civilization which had come to
the North and was incarnating itself in various
shapes among the different Teutonic peoples.
But the Spanish Armada dashed itself to pieces
against England who then sallied forth in her
turn and ended the Spanish absolutism on the
Ocean. Holland also took part in limiting the
maritime domination of the Latins, and her
greatest jurist, if not the greatest genius she

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.

15

ever produced, Hugo Grotius, first proclaimed
the Freedom of the Sea (mare liberum) as a part
of the Law of Nations, and as a necessary
correlate of the Freedom of the Land.

This principle of marine Freedom, however,
lay deep in the past of the two peoples, and in
their long primitive training through elemental
Nature. For the Teutonic peoples (Scandina
vian, North German, Dutch and English) lived
around the Open Sea, and thus had the perpetual
outlook upon the unlimited Ocean, with which
they had to grapple when they left their immedi
ate shores. But the Mediterranean peoples clus
tered for thousands of years around a Closed
Sea, whose limits they soon came to know and
to follow in outline upon their voyages. For
the early navigators clung to the shore, which
they seldom lost from view. Thus they were
trained to a prescribed line laid down by Nature,
or as they thought, by the Gods. The sea itself
trained them to prescription, to a path in which
they were to go, and made them directly
obedient to what was established from without.
Quite the opposite was the sea's discipline for
the Northern peoples, since the sea also keeps a
school for those who dwell on its borders — and
a stern school it is, in which corporeal punish
ment is not abolished. The Northern sailor was
slowly trained to drawing his own lines upon the
unlimited main, and became in the end the more

16 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

daring navigator. The result has been that no
Latin navy has been able to holei its own against
the English.

Thus we behold the mighty struggle of the
Seventeenth Century on land carried out into the
Ocean and re-enacting itself there with the same
general results. This struggle, we repeat, is
what the Philosophy of the time is seeking to
express and does express in abstract categories of
thought. Philosophy utters the Spirit of the
Age in its purest form, giving the innermost
process thereof, and its profoundest conflict.
The conflict shows many forms of manifestation
in the world of reality, but Philosophy beholds
in all these varied forms the one underlying prin
ciple. Naturally Spain is the pivot of the great
turn from South to North. Spain, being located
doubly, both upon the closed and the open sea,
strives to transfer the old Mediterranean limits
to the unlimited Ocean, and thence to the North.
But she fails, and with her failure she loses her
prestige and even her power of inner develop
ment, which indeed she has sought to destroy.

VI. Philosophy in the Seventeenth Century
still speaks Latin chiefly, but it has also begun
to employ the Latinized tongues, as French,
English and Italian. Any native Teutonic dia
lect it is very chary of using, though some phil
osophic writing may be found in Dutch and in
German. The significant fact then is that the

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 17

Teutonic idea clothes itself in a Latin garb.
Categories of thought coming from the past
are taken and filled with the spirit of the present.
Thus the utterance of Philosophy in the Seven
teenth Century is a case of putting new wine
into old bottles. The thought of the North,
born naked, has at first to borrow its clothes
from the South in spite of their age. This state
of things will of course change with time. Thus
the conflict between the Latin and the Teuton is
carried over into the very expression of Philoso
phy, and becomes a struggle between its Form
and its Content. The Greco-Roman world, even
in Jurisprudence, furnishes the Law and the
outer forms, into which, however, the new spirit
is to pour itself. Thus the German tongue is
put under the discipline of service for hundreds
of years, till in the Nineteenth Century it be
comes the great implement of Teutonic thought,
a?nd in power and subtlety of philosophic expres
sion is only paralleled by the Greek.

The intermediate link in this transition from
old Latin to modern German is the northern
Latinized tongues, notably French and English,
which are mainly, though not wholly, the prod
uct of Teutons trying to talk Latin. The result
is a transformation of speech which becomes a
mediating principle between the two extremes.
In the Seventeenth Century this mediating speech
breaks forth into a literary splendor which it has

2

1 8 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

hardly since attained, in England represented by
Shakespeare, in France by Corneille and Moliere.
Philosophy also began talking this speech in both
countries, and produced writings of a popular
cast, and more or less free of the philosophic
trammels transmitted from the old tongue of the
Past and of the South. But a new difficulty
also showed itself in these writings : in throwing

o o

off the ancient form, they had a tendency to
become formless, not yet having the new form.
VII. But something far deeper than the old
language with its old categories was inherited by
the philosophers of the Seventeenth Century
from the Past and the South. This was the
philosophic Norm, which was transmitted by
Latin culture through the ages from the Greek
world where it originated. All three — Des
cartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz — were learned
men, profoundly versed in the thought of
the Past, and fundamentally influenced by it,
even if Descartes affected to despise it. All
three wrote in Latin and thought in Latin,
especially Spinoza, whose tongue it became,
he having properly no mother-tongue. They
could not study deeply the transmitted Phi
losophy of the Middle Ages or of Antiquity
without penetrating to the Norm, or to the basic
procedure which makes Philosophy. They could
only be philosophers through their thought un
folding not irregularly, or even artistically, but

TEE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 19

philosophically, that is, after the inherent pre-
established Norm of Philosophy. They did not
found a Eeligion (which has its own distinct
Norm) but a Philosophy; still less did they
reach the Norm of Psychology, though they
were on the way thereto, being in the supreme
outlook stages in the evolution of this last Dis
cipline.

Accordingly the philosophers of the Seven
teenth Century will follow, in fact cannot help
following, the philosophic Norm which comes
down to them quite from the beginning of their
Science. On this side, accordingly, there is
something pre-formed, pre-determined in their
work, something which upholds it and prescribes
its deepest process. But on the other hand this
far-descended Norm is completely transfused
with a new content furnished by a new world of
thought, which makes the old trunk bud and
blossom afresh with thousandfold flowers and
fruits, in which it is quite hidden. Still the
Norm is there underneath and is supporting the
whole harvest. And it is the duty of the ex
positor to bring it out to the surf ace and to show
it performing its function, which is to give philo
sophic structure to thought and to conjoin the
same with all its previous manifestations.

It is this new content which creates Modern
Philosophy as distinct from Ancient and Me
dieval, the last two having essentially same

20 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

philosophic Norm as the first. We repeat, it is
the Ntfrrn which makes each and all of them
Philosophy.

VIII. We have already stated in a very gen
eral way what we hold to be the principle of the
Seventeenth Century and its Philosophy. It
places its stress upon the free internal self, the
individual, the Ego, which Descartes picks up
immediately and then starts. When the move
ment has reached Leibniz we see that he has
found the process of the Ego, and puts it into
his primary metaphysical form, the Monad.
Such is, in our judgment, the distinctive, most
original fact of this Century's Philosophy: be
ginning with the Ego as immediate, it unfolded
in the same the process, and formulated this
process metaphysically (not psychologically).

The next step is also of great significance.
This Ego having found itself, is now to find the
world, and to be reconciled with it, is to discover
in Nature a corresponding harmony with itself.
Hence arises the love of Nature, and the marvel
ous progress of Natural Science. The medieval
damnation of the world is set aside or rather is
overcome ; man finds in Nature not the Destroyer
but a friend who on good acquaintance will as
sist him in surprising ways. The Philosophy of
the Seventeenth Century will seek to bring man
to the knowledge of the world, while the previ-

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 21

ous Medieval Philosophy sought to turn man
away from the world in order that he might
know God.

This brings us to the part which the Seven
teenth Century assigns to God, for He is present
in all its manifestations. Its Philosophy declares
that through God Man is to know the World, and
to be organically connected with it in the process
of the All. Keally God has become the means
for Man's knowing the object. Thus the grand
medieval separation and antagonism between
Man and the World is now overcome by the act
of God Himself, to be sure somewhat externally
and mechanically.

Here we must note the fact that the Seven
teenth Century regards the universe on the whole
as a mechanism. It is the age of mechanics, of
great mechanical discoveries, celestial and ter
restrial. Mathematics, which is the ideal machine
governing the real one, made the greatest progress
and occupied the deepest minds of the Century.
When Kepler mathematically showed mechani
cal laws controlling the heavenly bodies, the
idea lay near that God's thought was mathemat
ical. Philosophy showed the tendency to pro
ceed after the method of Mathematics, and God
moved the Ego as if this were a machine. The
philosophic Norm was a kind of Pan-Mechanism ;
God, World and Man were the parts of the rna-

22 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

chine of the Universe. We may say that the
Pampsychosis, or the psychical process of the All,
attained and formulated its pan-mechanical stage
in the Seventeenth Century.

IX. The movement of the Philosophy of the
Seventeenth Century will show three stages,
which taken together form a psychical process
(Psychosis), constituting the very essence of its
thought. But each of these stages is represented
by a supreme philosopher, who has likewise his
own psychical process, and indeed many of them.
Three great philosophic Egos, asserting the val
idity of the Ego, form the innermost movement
of the Century. The personal triad of philoso
phers making a school of thought was the start
ing-point of Philosophy at ancient Miletus, and
continued through the entire history of thought
till in modern Philosophy it becomes emphatically
explicit. Here we may take a brief survey of
the supreme philosophic triad of the Seventeenth
Century.

1. Descartes. The self-knowing Ego is on
one side as Thought, and the World is on the
other side as Extension. God unites the two in
the act of knowledge by his direct fiat.

Descartes takes the Universe at first as given
with three elements or substances — God, World,
Man — which he unites in a process. It is,
therefore, a mistake to call Descartes the dual-

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 23

1st of the Seventeenth Century. Undoubtedly
he separates profoundly Thought and Extension,
but his very principle is to bring them together
again, even if externally. The same is true of
the other great Cartesian dualism, that between
Soul and Body. These indeed he divides deeply,
but for the very purpose of bringing them
together again. Some readers have thought and
may still think that he has made these divisions
so deep that he has been unable to bring them
back into unity, but that was certainly not his
opinion, and it is not the object of his Philoso
phy as he understands it. A true exposition
ought not to put the stress upon the dualism of
the philosopher, but upon the overcoming of it
according to his method.

In Descartes, then, God is the supreme rec
onciler of dualism, even if He has created it.
The chief f unctionof God is to makejnejmow
the worTcL wjusEis my oppocito, my-other. The
medieval idea is that the chief function of the
world is to make me know God, who is the sole
object, not the means, of knowledge. Herein
too we may see why Descartes had no use for
Final Causes (Teleology), God_being means, not
end.

Such we deem to be the first or immediate
stage of the philosophic movement of the
Seventeenth Century. God immediately, arbi-

24 MODERN E UBOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

trarily, by fiat, solves the problem of man's
knowing truth. But this is just what begets
more deeply in the soul the grand dualism be
tween God on the one side and man on the other,
which dualism expresses itself in the next
supreme philosopher of the period.

2. Spinoza. The self-knowing Ego as
Thought and the World as Extension are at first
posited as one and the same with God ; all differ
ence vanishes in God, the three Substances of
Descartes become one all-embracing, yea all-con
suming Substance, who is God, the One and the
only One. This is the metaphysical, monistic,
pantheistic side of Spinoza.

But he has just the opposite side in equal if
not greater strength, namely the ethical, individ
ualistic, even theistic. Spinoza has, therefore,
two movements completely contradictory: the
descending one we may call it, which begins with
God and moves down to the vanishing individual
(modus) ; the ascending one which begins with
the individual and rises not only to unity with
God, but perpetually re-creates through Intellec
tual Love the divine source of itself, instead of
being absorbed and lost in the same.

Here, then, lies the real dualism of the Seven
teenth Century, expressed in what many consider
its greatest Philosophy. There can be no doubt
that Spinoza has both these movements, and that

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 25

they are in direct contradiction, each with the
other. But just this is what makes him the true
representative of the Century, especially in its
second or separative stage. The conflict between
North and South, between Mediterranean and
Teutonic Spirit reflects itself directly in the
cleavage of his system. It is the wide-open
Philosophy, split from top to bottom, yet very
distinctly showing the philosophic Norm in its
cleft structure. Thus it reveals in its deepest
form the modern spiritual dualism, which we
shall find reaching out far beyond the Seven
teenth Century.

Such, then, is the second or separative stage
of the present period, which is to be followed by
the third or returning stage of the complete psy
chical process of this Century.

3. Leibniz. The self -knowing Ego as Monad
and the World as Monad (though unconscious)
are united by God in a pre-established Harmony.
The starting-point of Leibniz is the Monad or the
individual representing the universe, and the
Monad is the essence of all being. The move
ment is from the Monad back to the One, or
Monad of Monads, God, who creates and sets in
order this monadal world.

Thus we see that the fundamental fact of the
Philosophy of Leibniz is the return of the indi
vidual as Monad to the One, not the descent from

26 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the One (so in Spinoza) to the individual as a
seeming something or mode. The whole is a
grand flight of the Monads toward God in whom
they do not vanish, but who sends them forth in
harmonious order. Hence the present is the
third or returning stage in the total thought of
the Seventeenth Century. Really Leibniz shows
the desperate struggle to overcome, not the Car
tesian, but the Spinozan dualism which lies be
tween the two movements already set forth, the
descending and the ascending, or the metaphy
sical and the ethical. In what way Leibniz pro
ceeds in order to accomplish his purpose, will be
told more fully later on. Here, however, we
may say in advance that he puts the process of
the Ego into his metaphysical movement, thus
making the latter ascending and thereby rescuing
the Ego from the all-devouring maw of Spinoza's
metaphysical Substance. A great step was this,
in our judgment the greatest Leibniz ever took,
prophetic indeed, even if from afar, of the new
Psychology.

Accordingly Leibniz has reached, affirmed,
and formulated Substance as the self-conscious
Ego, yet still as Substance. So his form re
mains metaphysical, but his content is psycho
logical, showing the movement of the Self in
Feeling, Will and Intellect, though this move
ment be conceived vaguely and scatteringly, in

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 27

Leibuizian fashion. But it is a very high point
to reach, and the disguised Ego is made ready
to burst forth into its own shape with its own
right — all of which we shall find taking place in
the next Century.

With this brief outline of our future task in
mind, suggesting the ever-present inner process
of the age, we may begin the grapple with the
details.

28 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

l. Descartes,

There were philosophers of the Renascence
before. Descartes, but with him properly begins
the movement of modern Philosophy in its dis
tinctive, consciously expressed purpose. He
starts with the Ego, and proceeds through in
trospection to unfold its nature before trying
to solve its problem of knowing the object.
It is Descartes looking at the Self of Descartes
and ascertaining its existence first of all.
/ think, therefore, I am seems now a rather
trivial statement, but in it lies imbedded the whole
movement of modern philosophic thought. The
thinking Ego grasps itself and affirms its own
reality as the center from which the universe is,
to be constructed. No such point of view can
we find in the Greek or Medieval systems of
Philosophy.

We shall regard Descartes under three dif
ferent aspects — his Life, his Writings, and his
Philosophy. These may be considered three
different forms of utterance of the man and
through him of his age, moving as it were from
the outside acts of the individual in his setting
of time, to his inmost principle which is the
eternal and universal element of him. Our phi
losopher lived, wrote, and thought; in this triple

DESCAR TE8. — LIFE. 29

relation we are to comprenend him. as far as

possible.

I. THE LIFE OF DESCARTES. It has been

already noticed in the lives of certain ancient
philosophers that they seem to have had a period
of instruction and preparation (Lehrjahre),
then a period of travel and of wandering
( Wander j ahre) , finally a period of fulfillment
and mastery (Meisterjahre). This fact we may
observe most fully in the biographies of Plato,
Aristotle and Plotinus, the three greatest
philosophic writers of antiquity (see our account
of them in the previous volume , A-ncient
European Philosophy). The foregoing periods
are the three stages in the life and development of
every workman, high and humble; moreover
they have been suggested by one of the greatest
literary books that Europe has produced, Goethe's
Wilhelm Meister. Descartes in his career has
all three distinctly developed, as one of his biog
raphers, Kuno Fischer, has indicated. But Des
cartes himself has suggested these three periods
of his life in his Discourse on Method (premiere
partie*), where he first gives a somewhat extended
account of his years of study, in which " I had an
extreme desire of appropriating knowledge."
But he became disgusted with mere erudition, and
" as soon as my years permitted me to pass from
under the control of my preceptors, I abandoned
wholly the study of letters, and resolved to seek

30 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

no other science but that which could be found
in myself and in the great book of the world
(le grand livredumonde). Accordingly I spent
the rest of my youth in traveling, in seeing courts
and armies, in conversing with people of differ
ent characters and ranks," etc. Still we must
not " pass too much time in traveling," else the
estrangement from our own land and from our
selves may become too great. Hence, " after I
had spent some years in studying the book of the
world aforesaid, and in acquiring some experi
ence, I resolved to study myself (the book of
my Self), and to employ all the energies of my
mind in choosing the paths which I ought to
follow : which has succeeded much better, it seems
to me, than if I had never separated myself from
my books or my country."

So our philosopher, looking back at the past
in his forty-first year or thereabouts, distinguishes
its three epochs which at once we see to bear the
lineaments of a typical life, or of the biographical
norm common to many careers lofty and low.
Accordingly we shall briefly follow out on these
leading lines the main occurrences in the life
of Rene Descartes from his birth in 1596 till his
death in 1650.

1. First Period (1596-1617). He was born
in La Haye, France, where his family belonged
to the old nobility, and had held distinguished
positions in Church and State. His grandfather

DESCARTES.— LIFE. 31

had fought against the Huguenots, and Descartes
himself was present at the surrender of their last
stronghold, La Eochelle. These traditions of
his family he never openly violated ; to the end
of his days, he would go out of his way to de
clare his submission to the old Church and State.
Yet he took an early opportunity to get beyond
the reach of both ; he preferred to spend his
fruitful years away from France and from her
religion. He protested his devotion, but at a
distance. This is one of the striking discrep
ancies which run through his whole career.
Theologically he was determined not to break
with Catholicism, though philosophically he was
the most Protestant of all Protestants.

So his French birth-mark stayed upon his
features through the greatest mutations of his
spirit. His early education by the Jesuits proba
bly accentuated this double element in his char
acter. Externally submissive to established
institutions, but internally a daring innovator;
his freedom of thought he maintained along with
an almost servile obedience to authority in spir
itual matters. The same twofoldness seemed to
lie in the gifts of nature to this man : bodily he
was weak, inheriting a tendency to consumption
from his mother, who died a few days after his
birth, he being kept alive during infancy only
by the skill and care of his nurse; mentally he
was endowed with a strength at which the world

32 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

still marvels. We shall find him timidly shrink
ing from any grapple with the actual conditions
of his age; but in the minds of men he will
plant the seeds of a mighty revolution.

Descartes at school took the ordinary course
in languages and in literature, showing aptitude
in both. But there were two studies particu
larly upon which his future turned. The first of
these was Mathematics, which gave him his
supreme intellectual satisfaction all the rest of
his life. " I was specially pleased with Mathe
matics on account of their certainty," and he
compares this science with the writings of the
old pagans, which seemed like " magnificent
palaces built on sand and mud." Deeply dissat
isfied he is with ancient learning in spite of its
eloquence, its beauty, and its poetry ; the human
ities of the "Renascence are to him a kind of
plaything, lacking the severeness and precision
of Mathematics. Here is a mental strand which
accompanies his entire life.

Another branch, whose rudiments he learned
from the Jesuits, was Philosophy, embracing
Logic, Metaphysics and Ethics, to which we may
add Physics, taught probably after the medieval
Aristotelian fashion. In this sphere (that of
Philosophy) the many diverse opinions among
its greatest masters made him question the truth
of the whole science. Here, then, is the begiu-
of the Cartesian doubt : de omnibus dubi-

DESCAR TEti. — LIFE. 33

tandum. At the same time the bright pupil laid
just at this point the foundation of his future
greatest work. He acquired the philosophical
Norm as transmitted from the ancient and per
petuated through the medieval thinkers : Meta
physics, Physics, and Ethics. How his whole
spiritual striving and accomplishment hovered
around these three grand disciplines, especially
the first two, will be shown hereafter.

After staying with the Jesuits eight years, he
leaves their school at the age of sixteen, with
two main acquisitions: faith in the certainty of
Mathematics, and doubt in regard to pretty
much everything else, specially Philosophy.
Herein also we can see the problem of his life
dawning upon him, which runs somehow thus:
Can I transfer this mathematical certainty into
philosophic doubt and make Philosophy as clear
and consequent as a proposition in geometry?

With such a struggle fermenting in him the
youth goes to Paris in order to see the court and
the society of the capital, following herein the
custom, of the French nobleman. But again
that double nature of his asserted itself. For a
time he indulged in the fashionable dissipations
of the city, and then suddenly disappeared. He
went to a secluded house in the suburbs, and
gave himself up entirely to his mathematical
passion. Finally he was discovered in his
retreat and had to return to society. But he

3

34 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

was sated with that Parisian world and soon quit
Paris and France, which separation was far
deeper than he was himself aware of. Thus
ends his First Period, in the year 1617 at the
age of 21. He will now see the European world
outside of his own nation, and so he enters upon
a prolonged time of travel and foreign expe
riences.

2. Second Period (1617-29). There is little
doubt that Descartes quit his native land in a
state of deep inner scission. He had seen the
French court at one of its weakest and most
disgraceful epochs. A feeble king was on the
throne, the royal palace was a continued scene
of debauchery, intrigue and assassination. Des
cartes had been already at school disgusted with
books and all learning ; now he is disgusted with
his country, and particularly with its capital.
He is not the only philosopher*who has felt
an incompatibility of temper with the fair city
on the Seine, declaring it to be the very con
centration of all earthly vanities. Our Emerson
puts his gentle damnation upon it. One may toy
with the question: what would ancient Plato, if
he could be set down for a while in modern
Paris, say to the spectacle? A grand phantas-
magory of bewitching appearances without any
reality or truth he would be apt to deem it, a
, gorgeous empty show appealing merely to the
• wicked senses and gotten up by the demons for

DESCABTES. — LIFE. 35

the bewilderment of humanity. Little of the
Divine would he find in it, and he might hear
a word from some of the Parisians themselves
who have not hesitated to proclaim their city to
be the gay attractive courtesan for all Europe.
Away from such witchery of Appearance we
imagine Plato taking rapid flight to his realm
of Ideas, without even once looking back.

Descartes, our modern philosopher, did some
thing similar. He quit the charming capital of
his country, and, though a born Frenchman, he
was never afterwards restored in heart to
France. Though he came back again and again,
apparently with the design of staying at home,
he soon felt himself not at home, and fled over
the border. What is the meaning of it? Some
deep and lasting estrangement from his people
and from the French spirit we have to read in
these repeated returns and flights, even if he
never openly broke with his nation and its re
ligion. He declares that the atmosphere of Paris
breeds in his mind chimeras rather than truth.
He seems to have regarded self-deception as a
veritable disease in the French capital. He con
fesses that he became a prey to delusions along
with the rest of the population if he stayed
there. So he had to run away from the mental
epidemic of his own people, who would take the
false for the true and irresistibly impart the
contagion.

36 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Accordingly Descartes resolves to go forth and
" read the great book of the world" outside of
Paris and France. He enters the service of Hol
land, enlisting as a cadet under the Stadtholder,
a Protestant. In progress and in cultivation of
the sciences Holland was at that time the first
country of Europe. A freedom of thought had
arisen there which made the country very con
genial to young Descartes, full of doubts and
inner protests. He must have felt a great relief
when he found the iron hand of authority re
laxed, if not altogether prevented, from stran
gling thought in its birth. The result was Hoi-

O O o

land became his true home, the dwelling-place of
his free spirit, where it was creatively at its best.
This fact he must now have discovered, though
he is not yet ready to settle down in the land of
his genius.

After staying two years in Holland (1617-19)
he goes to Germany and takes service with the
imperial army. The Thirty Years' War had
„ \ broken out, the great struggle between Catholi
cism and Protestantism had opened. Descartes
now draws his sword for the Catholic cause, and
takes part in several campaigns. Another two
years (1619-21) pass, when he quits the service
of the Emperor. During this time he is reported
to have had a great inner experience, nothing
less than the discovery of his true vocation in
life. He is to renovate Philosophy by bringing

DESCARTES. — LIFE. 37

into it the same certainty which he has found in
Mathematics. The same general method which
he employed in his analytical Geometry he will
apply to mind. A certain exaltation seems to
have taken possession of him ; under such in
fluence he made a vow to go on a pilgrimage to
the shrine of Loretto, which vow he fulfilled five
years later. He became subject to dreams, in
one of which he read the words : Quod vilw sec-
tabor Her? indicating that he had come to the
Parting; of the Ways in the journey of life. He
also tampered with that great mystification of the
time, the Kosicrucians. For a while he seems
to have surrendered himself to that self-decep
tion from which he proposed to free mankind,
and from which he had fled out of Paris.

Having given up his military career abroad,
he resolves to see the rest of Europe. He
traverses Northern Germany from East to West,
reaches Holland and thence returns to France,
But there he could not stay. He had not yet
seen Italy and Rome. Accordingly he goes
thither, and after another two years (1623-5)
he is back again in Paris. Once more he tries
to isolate himself in a retired suburb, but does
not succeed. During this period he witnesses the
final conflict with the Huguenots, being present
at the surrender of their last fortress, La
Rochelle (1628). By this blow the absolutism
of the French Monarchy was made complete.

38 MODERN1 EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Already during his youthful sojourn at Paris,
Descartes saw the assembling and the dissolv
ing of the States General (1614-15) which did
not meet again till 1789, on the eve of another
and greater Revolution in the opposite direc
tion. The strong arm of Richelieu had extin
guished the last spark of French liberty ; the
powers of Church and State dominated soul
and body in France. Such a condition could
not possibly have been congenial to Descartes,
although he said nothing. Quietly he makes
his preparations, and bidding good-bye only to
a few intimate friends, he slips out of Paris
and France in the spring of 1629, turning his
face again toward his beloved Holland, the
home of his genius.

Thus the period of his travels is brought to a
conclusion. What had he seen? He had come
into direct personal contact with the great strug
gles of his age, chiefly religious. He had wit
nessed a triumphant Protestantism in the Neth
erlands, and even served in its cause ; he had
also witnessed a defeated Protestantism in France,
and had helped to defeat it ; thus he shows the
deep rent of his time to be present in his own
soul by this double service, sincere in both cases.
Then he beholds the desperate conflict between
the old and new forms of faith in his German
campaigns. In fact the Thirty Years' War
stands in the background of his entire mature

DESCARTES —LIFE. 39

life. That mighty struggle which lay essentially
between the right of the Self and absolutism was
reflected in his thoughts as he gazed at the con
tending parties from his distant perch in the
North. But he held aloof from the religious
controversy, his utterance was philosophic.
When he claimed the right of his Ego to call into
question everything, all the past, present, and
even future, and when he declared that his
thinking was the very ground of his being, he
was in his way fighting a Thirty Years' War
against the children of darkness. In Theology
he was still medieval, a timid, shrinking, unhe-
roic figure; but in Philosophy he was supremely
modern, the daring innovator and the hero of a
new epoch.

3. Third Period (1629-50). Descartes has
stated a number of reasons why he preferred
Holland. He could there be rid of all social
demands upon him, and give himself up unre
servedly to his inner call ; the climate was more
congenial than the Southern; he enjoyed con
templating the busy commercial life of the
people though he took no part in it. But
chiefly he saw there a greater realization of
freedom than elsewhere on the continent of
Europe. In one of his letters written in 1631
he says that there is " no country which has
a higher degree of civil freedom," showing that
he was not wholly indifferent to the political

40 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

condition of the time, though he kept silent
about it. Then there was just at this period
great intellectual activity in Holland, the greatest
in Europe. Descartes put himself into the center
of it and felt its strongest pulsations everywhere
about him. The Spirit of the Age selects some
nation as its chief supporter and represent
ative. This, in the earlier part of the Seven
teenth Century, was Holland. The insight, or
possibly ;the instinct, of the philosopher, who
rightly belongs to an epoch rather than to a
nation, chose that spot where the Thought of
the Time was most manifestly present and at
work. For it is this Thought of the Time which
the philosopher has at last to express, not
merely his own individual thoughts, opinions, and
reflections.

Holland had substantially settled the mighty
religious controversy, that between Catholicism
and Protestantism, in favor of the latter, though
this conflict was still being fought out in Ger
many. But in the form of Protestantism itself
a new struggle arose, that between Free-Will
and Determinism, which was hotly carried on in
Holland between the Armenians and the Gomar-
ists (Calvinists). This c©nflict had an influence
upon Descartes, who, however, transferred it
from the sphere of the Will into that of Intel
lect. The outcome was that he too became in
volved in the religious disputes of the land, and

DESCARTES.— LIFE. 41

at last, after a residence of twenty years, quit it
and went to Sweden, whither he had been invited
by the Queen, Christina.

There he died in 1650. It is remarkable that
Descartes who wandered all over Europe, never
seems to have visited England, or to have taken
any interest in her history. England's function
in Europe has chiefly been to work out the polit
ical problem, to which Descartes never showed
much inclination. Just over the channel from
Holland the struggle for constitutional liberty
had begun, culminating in a civil war between
Parliament and the House of Stuart. With
certain members of this royal House Descartes
stood on intimate terms, especially with the prin
cess Elizabeth, to whom he dedicated his most
complete work, The Principles of Philosophy
(Principia).

The supreme fact of Descartes' stay in Hol
land was that he wrote books. It may be
doubted if he would have taken to author
ship in France, where he had to maintain the
dignity of a French nobleman. His own brother
deemed him to have disgraced his family by writ
ing books. As it was, he frequently declared his
aversion to such an occupation, and he left
school disgusted with all literature. Still, Des
cartes felt supremely the need of expression, and
he came to Holland that he might be free to
utter what was in him. No sooner had he set-

42 MODERN' E UR OP BAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

tied down than he was laboring at his great
work on the Cosmos. It was almost finished in
the year 1633, when its publication was stopped
by a peculiar incident.

Descartes had in his book defended the Coper-
nican system, which had been supported by
Galileo in a famous dialogue published in 1622.
Galileo had been condemned for this view at
Rome in 1633. This was the thunderbolt which
also knocked the life out of Descartes' Cosmos.
As a submissive son of the Church, he bowed to
her decision; yet he could write to his friend,
that " if this doctrine (Copernican) is false, all
the principles of my philosophy are wrong."
Here we see the character of our philosopher.
He sought no reformation of institutions through
his thinking. He maintains repeatedly that his
work was chiefly to satisfy his own mind and to
develop his own Ego. Nevertheless Descartes
sought for disciples and formed a Cartesian
School during his lifetime. It is true that he
was not a professor in a University or a teacher
by vocation ; he claimed always to be the French
nobleman, above any such menial callings.
Still the form of his Principia and especially
the introductory letter to his translators show
that his mind was dwelling upon the Schools of
the ancient philosophers when he composed that
work.

Four years after the ecclesiastical ban upon

DESCABTE8. — LIFE. 43

Galileo, Descartes ventures to send forth a small
treatise in French called a Discourse on Method
which is the beginning of his philosophical emi
nence. During the next seven years his main
works were published, though he kept up his
writing till the close of his life. His produc
tions belong substantially to one Period of his
life, the last; in fact his greatest books, the
three by which he is best known, belong to one
phase of his last Period. This fact brings us
to observe that his long third Period, extend
ing through twenty-one years of his not very
long life (1629-1650), may well be divided into
three sub-periods or stages which can be dis
tinctly marked off by his writings about as
follows : —

First is his work on the Cosmos (Le Monde)
which came to an unhappy end as already
narrated.

Second are his two brief treatises which bear a
strong personal stamp — Discourse on Method
and the Meditations. These are subjective in
character and form, leaning more toward the
psychological procedure .

The third stage tends more to the metaphysi
cal procedure. It opens with the Principia,
and shows a decided return to formal Phi
losophy, especially of the Aristotelian pattern.
More will be said upon these works later.

Parallel to this literary activity of the last

44 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL OSOPH Y.

Period runs a line of external events, made up ef
personal experiences, changes of abode, multi
plied vexations, and chiefly a great deal of con
troversy. Into this side of Descartes' life we
cannot enter ; the curious reader can find in the
detailed biographies how the theologians, both
Catholic and Protestant, kept troubling him and
his disciples, while the latter in their turn often
caused chagrin to the Master. Him we shall
pass to consider where he is at his best and pre
sents to us the true fruits of his genius, namely
as a writer of books.

II. THE WRITINGS OF DESCARTES. There is no
intention here of giving an account of all that
Descartes has written. Only the important
works can be considered, first according to their
order in time, secondly by groupings which show
their development. It has been already indi
cated that the main works of Descartes, though
they all belong to his last Period, reveal a pro
cess going on within that Period. This process
we shall try to unfold in a general way, seeking
it in those books of his which Time has selected
as the best.

1. The Discourse on Method. This is a part
of a larger work called Essais Philosophiques ,
printed in 1637, and containing in addition to
the Discourse three other treatises, on Geometry,
Dioptrics, and Meteors. Thus we may infer that
Descartes included in his idea of Philosophy the

DESCARTES. — WRITINGS. 45

sciences of Mathematics and Physics. These,
however, have in the present case been over
shadowed by the Discourse, which gives the first
and simplest statement of his pure Philosophy.
It seeks to be easy and popular, and shows a
decided didactic vein, being written in French
by the author himself instead of Latin, which
was at that time the language of the learned,
and being addressed to the people " who use
their pure natural reason," and who, therefore,
c' will be better judges of my opinions than
those who believe only in old books." This is
a great, far-sounding note. It appeals, even in
the matter of Philosophy, to the people in de
fiance of the erudite professors and clergymen ;
it proclaims, too, that Philosophy must begin
to talk a modern and popular tongue — a re
quirement which Descartes himself did not
always follow. Furthermore, the treatise
proposes (in its title) to teach people " £he
right conduct of their reasons," as well as how
to " seek for truth in the sciences." Thus
our philosopher attempts to break down the
learned barrier which shuts out the people
from the cultivation of their mind and from
the pursuit of truth.

The form of the Discourse is unique. It may
be called the spiritual autobiography of a philos
opher. It speaks in the first person : I, Rene
Descartes, have flung aside all my books, have

46 M ODERN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

freed myself of all my preconceived opinions,
and now I am going forth in search of pure
truth as certainty. Such is the supreme as
piration of my nature, and this truth is what
God is to give me, if He is at all. I doubted
everything; " but as soon as I observed that I,
while doubting, had to be somewhat (namely the
doubter), I came upon this truth : I think, there
fore I am, and I concluded that I could without
scruple take it as the first principle of my Phil-
losophy " (Discourse, Part 4).

It is important to note the empirical procedure
of Descartes in this account. He is purely in
trospective, seeking his first principle within;
he examines his Ego, and from its activity in
thought he infers its existence. Here too we
see the distinct psychological strain which char
acterizes the whole course of modern Philoso
phy, in contrast with the ancient. Descartes
does not say that Thinking is Being — already
some of the old Greeks had said that — but he
does affirm my Ego's Thinking is my Ego's
Being — a very different matter. Such maybe
fairly deemed the opening sentence of modern
Philosophy: / think, therefore I am. Much,
however, lies implicit in it which time will make
explicit, and which we are to see unfolding in
this book of ours. Hegel has called it " the most
interesting idea of recent times," and he might

DESCABTES.— WRITINGS. 47

have added, the most fruitful, being such a germ
of future thought.

Amid numerous personal reminiscences, Des
cartes comes to the second great fact of his
Philosophy: the proof of the existence of God.
He also relates that Mathematics gave him that
certainty which he wished to transfer to philo
sophical truth. The function of God in human
cognition is also set forth. Nor is a brief treat
ise upon Physics omitted. In fact we have in
this Discourse an outline of Descartes' Philoso-
ophy, though this outline is skillfully overlaid
with personal experiences and events of his inner
history. It is the philosopher's Ego telling of
itself and hew it came really to know itself.
The subjective form is, therefore, deeply conso
nant with the theme. This gives to the treatise
an artistic character which has caused it to be
read by many who are not philosophers. We
must not, therefore, regard the present book as
a dry, abstract disquisition upon philosophic
method, as its general title might suggest. A
fundamental trait of the character of Descartes
is indicated in the following: " My first maxim
was to obey the laws and customs of my country "
(Discourse, Part 3) ; he was careful to shun the
reputation of apolitical innovator. "Adhering
faithfully t® the religion in which I had been
educated from my infancy, I followed in all
things the moderate course." So he declared

48 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

himself hostile to any change in Church or State,
he would not touch institutions. Little aware
does he seem that thought, once possessing the
minds of men, must affect also the established
order, political and religious.

2. The Meditations. This work was published
in 1641 at Paris (the Discourse appeared in
Ley den, Holland), written in Latin by Descartes
himself. It was called Meditationes de prima
philosophia; this last term, First Philosophy,
goes back to Aristotle, who thus designated his
metaphysical doctrines, in contrast with his physi
cal, which he called Second Philosophy. We
soon observe that this is a far more ambitious
book than the Discourse; it proposes to compete
with the Stagirite in his greatest work. Now
Descartes appeals to the learned and writes in
Latin, with a dedication to the theologians of
the Sorbonne. The content of this Philosophy
is stated in the title of the second edition (some
what changed from the first edition herein) as
consisting of proofs for the existence of God and
of the distinction of the soul from the body.

So Descartes writes a book in spite of his
repeatedly expressed dislike of books and of
writing books. As there was no external neces
sity upon him to do so, we must suppose that he
had an inner need of utterance deeper than any
repugnance. Amusing it is to see him twist and
squirm about in making excuses for doing what

DESCAE TE8. — WRITINGS. 49

he did not want to do and did not need to do.
In this he is somewhat like Plato who pretended
to despise the written word, yet wrote all his life,
and became great through his books for all time.
Both philosophers were aristocrats by birth, and
could not help showing their aristocratic disdain
by making wry faces at their own genius.

The Meditations have an inner movement and
content similar to the Discourse , of which they
are a new and improved edition. The peculiar
Cartesian norm of philosophizing shows itself:
the negative start with doubt ; the first positive
truth attained in the self-conscious Ego (I think
therefore I am); the second positive truth **N
reached in the existence of God; the employ
ment of clear and distinct ideas; the Ego's
cognition of the object through God ; the sepa
ration between soul and body, as well some
observations on Physics; all these show the
sweep as well as the subject-matter of the Medi
tations. We see how completely this metaphy
sical movement has taken possession of the mind
of the philosopher. For four years, ever since
the publication of the first sketch in the Dis
course he has been turning over these germinal
thoughts, unfolding and purifying them from
everything extraneous.

Yet the form of exposition is essentially the
same as in the Discourse, being still largely
autobiographical. Descartes could not get rid

4

50 MODERN EUROPEAN- PHILOSOPHY.

of his own Self in treating of the Self, which is
his fundamental fact and positive starting-point.
Yet there are fewer outer events of life recorded,
the procedure is more completely the Ego's
account of itself than in the Discourse. The
discussion is about Man, God and the World,
but it is in the form of the Self, indeed of my
Self. The tone is subjective; the reader is
turned back into his own Ego, where he is made
to see himself going through a like process with
the author. Thus the manner and spirit are
modern, and show a new dawning world of sub
jectivity, very different from the objective way
of the old Greeks. On the other hand Descartes
is much more abstract and metaphysical in this
work than in the Discourse. We may see that
he is struggling with his subjective form while
at the same time intensifying it. Such are the
two tendencies in these Meditations; one he is
leaving behind, while into the other he is advanc
ing. The latter tendency will next show itself
in a new book, which decidedly suggests that
Descartes is turning away from his popular audi
ence to the trained student, and is seeking to
form a School of Philosophy after the manner
of the ancients.

3 . The Principles ( Principia ) of Ph ilosophy .
Printed in Latin at Amsterdam in 1644. It is
ostensibly divided into four parts, but in fact it
has only two subjects, Metaphysics and Physics;

DE8CAE TES. — WRITINGS. 5 1

to the former the first part is devoted, to the
latter, the three other parts.

The author now proceeds abstractly, or, as he
would say, synthetically ; whereas in the two fore
going works his method he has called analytic.
The autobiographic manner is dropped, and the
principles of his Philosophy are stated directly ;
hence the title of the work. In other words, his
writing is now objective and leaves out the per
sonal subjective element which we have noticed
both in the Discourse and the Meditations. The
style is no longer in the form of an individual
experience outer and inner, but runs rather to
universal propositions stated more or less dog
matically. Though he often uses here the pro
noun we (in place of the former /), his word has
the tone of an authoritative command and not
that of tentative experience. It is a decided
change in form and spirit; he has become more
certain of himself within, and less fearful of the
outer powers. He dedicates the book to Prin
cess Elizabeth, a profound admirer of his Philos
ophy, as well as a royal patroness of it ; with
her favor he seems to defy the rest of the world.

Still this change of manner and of exposition
we can well deem an inner evolution of the
philosopher himself. He, as philosopher, must
naturally rise out of the particular to the uni
versal both in thought and in statement. More
over he has been studying the ancient thinkers of

52 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Greece whose special characteristic is to proceed
objectively. A letter of Descartes to the French
translator of the Principia is prefixed to the
French edition (Paris, 1647). In that letter the
author cites Plato and Aristotle, specially dis
paraging the latter, and assailing the Logic of
the Schools. Still Descartes shows that he has
before himself the philosophic Norm — Meta
physics, Physics, and Ethics — though he is a
good deal confused over the last. He has a
scheme of " giving to the world a complete body
of Philosophy." It is evident such a scheme
floated before his mind in writing this book on
The Principles of Philosophy.

So we put together the philosophical books of
Descartes, in which we see a decided evolution
of one fundamental process of thought. This
starts as a germ in the Discourse, develops to its
full meaning in the Meditations, and finally as
sumes its philosophic form in the Principles.
Through all these stages, which we may name
bud, flower, fruit, runs the one idea in a three
fold process: the Ego's consciousness of Self,
the Ego's consciousness of God, and the Ego's
consciousness of the non-Ego or the World.
Into and around these central themes entwine
many other important doctrines with much ar
gumentation and reflection. Still just here lies
the genetic thought of Descartes and of modern
Philosophy.

DESCAETES. — WRITINGS. 53

An unconscious evolution (destined to become
conscious in a later century) we find in these
three books of the philosopher. But into what
does he unfold? We have noted that his third
book, the Principles, moves essentially upon the
lines of the philosophic Norm, which we have
already found lurking in every system of thought
from the ancients down, that is, whenever
thought develops into a system. In fact the
title PrincAples (Priiicipia in Latin, archai in
Greek) has been rightly regarded as a direct
translation from Aristotle.

4. To these three central works of Descartes we
may add a fourth, the treatise on The Passions
of the Soul, printed in French at Amsterdam in
1650, the year of Descartes' death. This work
helps us supply the stage of Ethics, which is
very defective in Descartes. It treats of the
Soul and Body in its first part, and so makes a
connection with Cartesian Physics, in fact it dis
tinctly joins on to the last sections of the Prin-
cipia and also to the Sixth Meditation, which
latter likewise discusses toward its close the dis
tinction between Soul and Body.

Moreover this treatise shows the same change
in style and manner of philosophizing, which we
have already noted in the Principia. Aristotle
is certainly the pattern, though Descartes takes
special pains to reject and scoff at the old Greek
philosopher, affirming his own originality. In

54 MODERN' E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

general, Descartes deemed himself the most
original soul that had ever been born ; he was his
own God who first gave to mankind " clear and
distinct ideas " for knowing the world. In spite
of some professions of modesty, which always
have a peculiar hollow sound, he had no question
about his own primacy and infallibility. He
considered himself to stand alone, he had no
notion of his own evolution in the History of
Philosophy, no glimmer that he was but a link
in the great philosophical development which
had been going on long before him, and which
was to go on long after him. Undoubtedly, he
was a very important link, still he was but a
link. It is true that the History of Philosophy,
which is the grand training out of such egotism
as that of Descartes, was substantially unknown
to his age, as it is now known, namely as one of
the most important evolutionary disciplines of
the Nineteenth Century.

Descartes had then in mind the Metaphysics
and the Physics of Aristotle in writing his
Principia; in like manner he takes his cue from
Aristotle's Ethics in writing his Passions of the
Soul.

Already we have commented on this change of
philosophic style and of method from that which
we see in the earlier Discourse and Meditations.
The philosopher is passing into the transmitted
philosophic Norm; he is going from his first

DESCARTES. — WRITINGS. 55

subjective, experimental, inductive manner to
his second deductive, synthetic, objective pro
cedure. He has both ways in his career, yet not
both at the same time. Between 1641 (when
the Meditations were published), and 1644
(when the Principia were published) we may
consider this change to have culminated though
it had been a good while before fermenting in
him. In fact, we may take this change as the
return to his earlier studies with the Jesuits at
La Fleche, from which he had so long and so
powerfully re-acted. He has come to feel the
need of system which is not merely a method of
philosophizing (this he has already employed)
but is the ordered Whole of Philosophy. Hence
it is that he is thrown back upon Aristotle in
whom the philosophical Norm had its first ex
plicit and complete manifestation (see our
Ancient European Philosophy, pp. 374-5, 495,
614, etc.) Moreover it runs through all Medie
val Philosophy. Descartes, therefore, falls into
line with the philosophical movement of the
ages, in spite of his protest to the contrary, and
works over his earlier productions in the same
spirit (seethe First Part of the Principia).

5. In the philosophical series we must-not omit
to mention two other works, which have their
significance in relation to the total philosophy of
Descartes. The first is Rules for the Direction
of the Mind, which shows Descartes in the process

5 6 MODE EN E UR OPE AN PHIL OSO PHY.

of his own self-training for his work, and has
many a connecting link with his first two books
above mentioned. The second is the Investiga
tion of Truth by the Light of Nature (la lumiere
naturelle), originally written in French and first
published over fifty years after Descartes' death
(1701). The whole title is suggestive: "The
Investigation of Truth by the Light of Nature,
which of itself and without the help of religion
and philosophy determines the opinions which a
gentleman ought to have on all things which
should be the object of his thoughts, and which
penetrates the most abstract sciences." The
work is incomplete and is in the form of a
dialogue, in which fact as well as in its Greek
names one cannot help being reminded of Plato,
though Descartes, as usual, disclaims the idea of
his having borrowed anything from the books
of the ancients. The content is, of course, Car
tesian. The emphatic point is that the philoso
pher is now going to dismiss " the help of
philosophy and religion," and employ only "the
natural light " of human reason. The interfer
ence of God is left away, it would seem that man
is by his own mental poAver " to penetrate the
most abstract sciences," or to know the world.
It may in general be said that Descartes, as he
advances in years, has a tendency to put into
the background the divine element, or the part
of God,, in his Philosophy. Already the deity

DESCARTES. — WHITINGS. 57

appears less in the Principia than before, though
he appears often enough. The difficulties con
nected with the mechanical view of God seem to
have become more and more apparent to Descar
tes. At least in this last book he deems that
knowledge can be acquired <% by the natural
light" alone, without "the divine concourse."
All this looks as if Descartes himself were on
the way toward Spinoza who is to give a new
construction of the Cartesian divinity.

III. THE PHILOSOPHY OF DESCARTES. We
are now to concentrate the philosophic doctrines
of Descartes, which are set forth with varying
degrees of maturity and completeness in his dif
ferent works. But in them all is a common
body of principles, even the same general move
ment in exposition. They pertain to Man, God,
and Nature, which are treated separately and in
connection. Hence, Descartes will have the phi
losophic Norm embracing the sciences of these
three themes which constitute the Universe —
Metaphysics, Physics, and a somewhat uncertain
and incomplete third science which may still be
called Ethics.

This threefold Norm, after being thrown away
by Descartes in his Period of reaction, was
slowly returning to him with the deepening of
life and thought during his third Period, which
revealed to him the profundity of its meaning.
We have already noted evidence of this return

58 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL O SOPHY.

to Philosophy as such in the Meditations, we
have also seen that the Principia is consciously
based upon the philosophic Norm. This is plain
from the introductory letter in which Descartes
lays down a kind of curriculum for the student
who, after a stated preparation, "should com
mence to apply himself to true Philosophy, of
which the first part is Metaphysics." Then " the
second part is Physics," but the third part
seems to be composed, in the scheme of Des
cartes, of three "principal branches, Medicine,
Mechanics, Ethies." Here is some confusion;
still, he adds: " By the science of Ethics I un
derstand the highest and most perfect science,
being the final degree of wisdom, and presup
posing an entire knowledge of the other sciences."
This last statement puts Ethics where it belongs
in the Norm, though there is certainly fluctua
tion in other statements. He also speaks of "a
complete body of Philosophy" already outlined
in his mind after the above-mentioned Norm.
This Norm is, accordingly, what an exposition of
the Cartesian Philosophy must follow.

A. METAPHYSICS.

This is, by all means, the epoch-making por
tion of Descartes' doctrine. It deals with ontology
or the science of Being, like all Metaphysics; it
takes up Being as immediate, or as Nature (the

DESCAE TES. — ME TAPE YSICS. 59

subject of the Greek philosopher) ; it has much to
say of the Being of God (the subject of the Medie
val thinker) ; but it also grapples with the Being of
the Ego, which is the new point in modern Phi
losophy. So the Metaphysics of Descartes has
for its content the three Beings or Substances —
Man, God, and the World — opening with the
first in the famous declaration, / think, there
fore, /AM.

This Ego (or /) is, accordingly, the starting-
point of Descartes and the moderns, consciously
so, wherein lies his difference from the previous
thinkers who also started with the Ego (had to
do so in fact), though unconscious of their own
Self in their procedure. But in Descartes the
Ego turns back upon itself and knows itself as
the primal philosophic act, and takes up its
new position from which to move the Uni
verse, knowing itself to be self-knowing, hence,
existent.

But the Ego now turns back, not only upon
itself, but also upon former Philosophies and
wheels them into line with its own process. The
Being of the Ego is to be not simply self-con
scious within itself or subjectively, but it has to
return and take up Pure or Immediate Being
(Greek), and God's Being (Medieval) into its
movement. Thus we see that Descartes is a re
turn to the very beginning of Philosophy in or
der to bring its total sweep into the new advance.

60 MODERN EUEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

In this sense we observe that Descartes still be
longs to the Kenascence, going back, indeed, to
ancient thought but integrating it vitally with the
modern.

Accordingly we shall have to look at this met
aphysical stage of Descartes' Philosophy under
three heads: the Ego's knowing itself as exist
ent, the Ego's knowing God as existent, the
Ego's knowing the world (objective) as existent.
These are the three elements of the philosophic
Norm unfolding in Cartesian order.

I. The first thing that Descartes as a philoso
pher sets himself about doing is to come into
clearness concerning his own Ego. After his first
period embracing his years of study, he had cast
away his books as the source of error. And
after his second period of travel in which he read
for a number of years " the great book of the
world," he has to throw this book also aside as
unable to give him truth, the object of his soul's
search. " Then I resolved to make myself (my
Ego) an object of study " which last undertak
ing he thinks has been crowned with success.
Introspection is thus the fundamental fact of
his procedure in spite of all that he says about
his mathematical method.

But with his Ego he was, on close examination,
not satisfied. For he finds its knowledge so
called a commingled mass of truth and false
hood. It is largely composed of things given by

DESCABTES. — METAPHYSICS. 6 1

the senses, whose report of objects is often not
correct. Then he may be dreaming instead of
actually seeing; since for him " there are no
certain marks by which the state of waking can
ever be distinguished from sleep." What a
world of illusion ! < « I almost persuade myself
that lam dreaming just now " in writing this
book. Something must be done at once and in
a heroic fashion ; so Descartes reaches his first
grand mental maxim in a fit of defiance : Doubt
everything and everybody ; de omnibus dubitan-
dum.

(1) This we may name his negative Ego,
since it is his Ego which now turns upon its own
content or knowledge with a universal negation.
It finds within itself an entire world of beliefs,
accepted doctrines, preconceptions. Is it not
evident that all of them must be overhauled and
questioned as to their right of being true knowl
edge? It is indeed a big job, that of " ridding
myself of all the opinions I had adopted and
of commencing afresh the work of building from
the foundation," the edifice of a true Ego.

But hold! while the philosopher's Ego is lay
ing about itself within its own domain and chal
lenging every opinion, a reflection comes : I
cannot doubt the doubter; this doubting Ego
must be in order that I may doubt, or indeed
perform any act of thought. I may and do deceive
myself; but in order to deceive myself there

62 MODERN E UE OPE A N PHIL 0 SOPHY.

must be a Self (or Ego) to be deceived. It is I
who doubt, but without this /, there is no doubt.

(2) This we may name the positive Ego,
whose existence is posited even by the negative
doubt. Thus in the ocean of uncertainty and
dubitation, Descartes has reached one certain,
indubitable point, his own Self. From this point
he is to ray out and illumine the universe-
Through the Ego's doubting and thinking, it is;
thus comes before us the famous Cartesian say
ing, / think, therefore I am. Here is a twofold-
ness, to think and to be, both of which are
united through and in the Ego. Its form has
doubted all its content, till finally it takes its own
form as content, which it has to affirm even in
order to doubt.

There has been a good deal of discussion about
the meaning of I think, therefore I am. This
resolution of all doubt has been itself much
doubted. It has been charged with being an empty
tautology, inasmuch as / think already means /
am thinking. Is Descartes trying to prove per
sonal existence by a syllogism? The form seems
to indicate such, as we may see by the following:
All that thinks is, I think, therefore I am. But
this is not what Descartes means ; his apparent
inference is an intuition rather than a deduction,
immediate insight rather than mediate reasoning;
he intends to say that my personal existence is
implicitly contained in my thinking, though not

DESCARTES. — METAPHYSICS. 63

explicitly, till I make it explicit by a special act
of my thought. Gassendi's objection lay in the
fact that a major premise was implied, and hence
that there was apetitio principii in the statement.
Thus the thing to be proved is tacitly assumed.
Descartes answered this objection by affirming
that " there is no major premise implied, it is
a particular truth which enters the mind without
logical deduction, a natural truth which strikes
at once and irresistibly the intelligence." In an
other reply he says: "The notion of existence is
a primitive notion, not obtained by any syllogism ;
it is evident of itself, and our mind discovers it
by intuition." (See Cousin's comment on this
topic.)

This would seem decisive of Descartes' purpose.
Still the form is unquestionably deductive, while
the meaning is intuitive ; it is an immediate insight
expressed in mediated reasoning. Hence the am
biguity of I think> therefore lam; no Delphic
oracle was ever more two-edged. Though Des
cartes deems it the one certain fact in the uni
verse and indeed the foundation of all certitude
which has rescued the Ego from its sea of doubts,
it has nevertheless caused in many of his readers
more doubts than they had ever had before they
were thus rescued. Still this sentence is said to
have dominated the best minds for a century after
Descartes (the seventeenth) ; then it begins to
be denied and even covered with ridicule in

64 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

the next century (the critical eighteenth);
during the present century (the nineteenth) it
has again come into estimation, at least as an
epoch-making historic fact in Philosophy. In
this statement Descartes has turned the Ego back
into itself and made it affirm its own existence
through thinking, that is, through self-knowing.
(3). Thus we come to the self-conscious Ego,
whose self-conscious activity is its being, which
may be regarded as the true interpretation of the
Cartesian maxim, the interpretation given by
time. In Descartes when the Ego thinks ( cogito)
it turns back upon itself and knows itself, and
hence is (ergo sum). It must have this process
within itself in order to be. In other words we
have here the first vague statement of the
Psychosis, or the process of the Ego as the basis
of all true science. We may trace its primal
implicit stage, then its separation into subject
and object which correspond to Descartes' think
ing and being, finally the return to unity in self-
consciousness. That threefold movement (the
Psychosis) which we find in Greek thought as
purely ontological, we see in Descartes commenc
ing to be psychological, and so starting the great
movement of modern thinking toward its end in
pure Psychology. Still Descartes cannot give up
his philosophical standpoint, which is indeed
European, so he projects his self -consciousness
into being, his cogitare into esse. He cannot get

DESCAETES. - METAPHYSICS 65

rid of the ontological substrate, though his be the
Ego:s ontology. With him the end of the Ego's
thinking is its being, but time is destined to turn
the two terms around and show that the Ego's
being is its thinking. With this latter conception
fully unfolded, a new epoch and a new discipline
of thought open together.

Very characteristic of the Seventeenth Cen
tury is the fact that Descartes designs to throw
away the syllogism in his / think, therefore I am,
and to fall back upon the immediate act of know
ing (intuition) instead of the mediated one
through the syllogism. And yet he does not
fully succeed Nothing is plainer than that the
syllogistic form underlies his famous enthyrneme
Still its meaning or content is intuitive, imme
diate, as he declares. So his effort to free him
self of scholastic trammels is but half a success.
The old transmitted forms he has to use, even if
he pours into them his new thought. This same
fact we have already noted as true of all the
great philosophers of the Seventeenth Century.
Such are the three phases or activities of the
Ego — negative, positive, and self-conscious —
in this first movement of Cartesian Philosophy,
which is the movement from absolute skepticism
with its doubt to absolute certainty with its truth,
namely to the Ego as self-knowing. Thus, a
criterion of truth is obtained: it must be known
with the same certainty that the Ego knows

6 6 MOD EEN EUROPEAN' PHIL 0 SOPHY.

itself in self-consciousness. Two terms are used
by Descartes to express such knowledge • Clear
ness and distinctness. I know anything clearly
when my mind grasps it immediately, as it is in it
self ; I know anything distinctly, when my mind
separates it from all that is alien to it. Hence
one of Descartes' rules for the direction of mind
is "to accustom ourselves to see the truth clearly
and distinctly." In fact " whatever we see
clearly and distinctly is true," cannot help being
true without upsetting the Ego, and still more,
without upsetting God Himself.

At this point we may find the transition to the
next stage of Cartesian thinking, to grasping and
grounding the existence of God. Whence comes
this clear and distinct knowledge of things?
Behind it must be a cause , such a cause^ accord
ing to Descartes, is God,

II. The second truth which Descartes in his
investigation of First Philosophy or Metaphysics
seeks to ascertain is the existence of God as the
necessary counterpart to the existence of the
Ego. As he picked up the Ego and unfolded its
existence, so now he seems to pick up God and
to set about the problem of His existence.
Though the manner is empirical and apparently
fortuitous, we shall find in Descartes a profound
connection between these two stages of the ex
position, the Ego's being and God's being. In
fact, that self-consciousness cannot be without

DESCARTES.— METAPHYSICS. 67

God-consciousness is one of Descartes' deepest
and most fruitful thoughts. Still further, man
cannot know the object except through God,
who removes the grand barrier between the
Microcosm and the Macrocosm. According to
the Cartesian notion, the Ego is lying helpless in
its own prison-house till God comes and breaks
down the door from the outside, letting forth
that incarcerated Self into the world, where it is
to attain unto true knowledge t Previously, in
the Middle Ages, it might be said in one sense
that God was the Ego's jailer, but Descartes has
secretly called up a new God, or at least a new
Divine Spirit, whose function now is to set that
very Ego free which it before jailed (often with
good reason let it be added in passing).

In the mind's getting hold of the existence of
God, there is a movement which may be set
forth as follows • —

(1) God's existence is inborn in my Ego; or,
as Descartes expresses it, the idea of God is
innate. It comes to me not through the senses,
nor primarily through any other means except
God. It is an immediate divine gift of Himself
to man. This gift is, however, no external one,
but the gift of his very Self to his creature. He
is not only the artist, but also the pattern of his
own work, he is the archetype producing itself
in a finite form. " From the fact that God made
me, I believe that He made me in his image, and

68 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

that I am like Him. * * * I know the idea of
God just as I know myself." Hence this idea is
innate, it is immediately one with my Ego ; from
this side my Ego is what God's Ego is, inborn
yet put there by God in birth.

On the other hand the. Ego, contemplating
itself, finds that it is different from God, being
dependent, imperfect, finite. I therein separate
Him from myself, hold Him up before myself as
the ideal of perfection and as the goal of my striv
ing. Now, I have conceived of God, and from
this conception of Him I pass to His existence,
which is an inference, a deduction, and is no
longer an immediate insight. Thus I attempt
to prove the existence of God by argument.

(2) The two sides now appear: the concep
tion or idea of the most perfect Being on the one
side (subjective), and on the other the neces
sary reality (objective) of such a being inferred
through the idea of Him. I have a clear and
distinct idea of God, therefore He is. Such an
idea is a fact of my consciousness, indeed a fund
amental fact of it, which cannot originate with
me, since it is greater and more perfect than I
am. Hence, it comes from God who must exist
in order to impart it to me. This is the so-
called ontological proof of God's existence,
which was brought into medieval Theology by
Anselm and which made it conscious of its
deepest purpose. For as Greek thought grap-

DESCABT'ES.— METAPHYSICS. 69

pled with Being as such, so Medieval thought F
grappled with God's Being, making it an element \
in the experience of every individual Ego which
had the idea of the Perfect One. In the ontolog-
ical proof God is first, producing in me the idea
of the Perfect, through which idea I am to know
His existence. Thus I am in a manner the spirit /
of God who puts into me his idea, whereby I am
to return and recognize Him.

Tb.is pro>of waj^ not altogether acceptable^ to
Descartes. From my conception of~~ariything I
do not Fave to infer that it exists. Indeed I have /
many conceptions (or ideas) which I know do \
not exist. Why should God be the exception? /
That is just the matter requiring proof. It must \
therefore be shown how the existence of God I
necessarily follows from the conception of Him,
If there are many conceptions which have no
reality, how can I be made certain that the con
ception of God is not one of that sort? So
Descartes will proceed to make an addition to
the ontological proof which secures its necessity.

Before we pass to that subject, it may be
stated that Descartes did not apparently see the
full validityofthe oiitolo^icalar^ulnenL It is
true that this argument infers reality from the
idea, and that such inference is not a necessary
one in general. But God as the Perfect One is
rightly the exception. All other ideas are the
imperfect, finite, and hence may be unreal. But

70 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

/"the idea of God as perfect must have reality, else

7 he would be conceived as imperfect, finite, unreal.

I The idea of the Perfect without reality is already
J imperfect, and hence is a Contradiction. The
vice^of the ontoIogicaT^proof is not its lack of
necessity, as Descartes supposes, but its exclu
sion of the Ego's participation, which Descartes
will, partly, at least, supply. For without the
Ego knowing itself there cannot be its knowing
of God in any adequate degree. Self-conscious
ness and God-consciousness are in correspondence
and move in one process. This fact Descartes
knows and will set forth.

(3) The scholastic ontological proof is trans
formed by Descartes into what may be called the
modern psychological proof of God's existence.
There is still the idea of the Perfect One, but
now the stress is placed upon the fact that I the
imperfect one, have this idea of the Perfect
Being. The Ego is to know itself as imperfect
really, yet also to know itself as having the idea
of perfection. This is the psychological basis of
the Cartesian proof. First of all, the Ego must

\ cognize itself in its double character, then it sees
that it, the imperfect, cannot produce the idea of
the perfect out of itself, and finally that this idea
in it can only spring from what is actually per
fect. Thus the existence of God necessarily fol
lows from the idea of the Perfect Being — which
necessary consequence Descartes did not seem-

DE S CA RTES. — ME TA PH YSICS. 7 1

ingly attribute to the ontological proof. The
two formulas (ontological and psychological)
might run according to Descartes: The^idea
of Perfect JBtin^iia^Jia^ej^Uty and tJieidea of

imperfect Being mustjiave
polity. Still further, the ontological proof
knows the Ego only as having the idea of perfec
tion, from which idea divine reality is inferred,
but the psychological proof knows the Ego as
self-knowing, as conscious of itself as the imper
fect one with the idea of the Perfect One, from
which divine reality necessarily follows.

Hemwjthend^ the Caj^ian^J3*wem££^jor
the mind's getting the existence of God from the
idea, whereof we have seen three stages whichjve
may summarily call the innate, the ontological and
tETpsychoTogical stages! But having obtained,
or""one~might almost lay, evolved God, what is
Descartes going to do with Him? This question
brings us to the next phase of his metaphysical
scheme.

III. We have seen man (or his Ego) getting
to know itself as existent, also man (or his Ego)
getting to know God as existent; now we are
to behold man getting to know the World as ex
istent. Descartes takes the World for granted
as something which he is to know, he picks it up
from the outside, as he also picked up the Ego
and God, who are now to be seen in a process
with the World. This process is that God causes

72 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

man to know the world by putting into his mind
clear and distinct ideas of objects.

Thus Descartes opens up this great problem
of all modern Philosophy, the problem of
cognition. There seems to be an impassable
chasm between Man and the World, between the
realms of the Ego and non-Ego. How can they
be bridged? The answer of Descartes is, by the
act of God, who therein finds his new function in
the universe. He imparts to the Ego clear and
distinct Ideas of the object, which must have
reality unless God is a deceiver. Yet this is not
the only way God moves the Ego to know the
object, for there is also mathematical knowl
edge. Finally God is conceived by Descartes as
creating both Ego and object (or mind and mat
ter) and thus producing the very difference which
it is his great function to overcome.

God, therefore, makes the Ego know the world
by his immediate act (granting clear and distinct
Ideas) ; then He makes the Ego know the world
by his mediated act (through Mathematics), then
he makes both Ego and the World (the one infinite
Substance producing the two finite Substances).
For short, we may call these three stages, God
as immediate, God as mathematical, and God as
creative, of which stages the following account
presents the leading points: —

(1) The separation between Ego and non-Ego
is the grand rent in the universe which God, if he

DESCAR TES. — ME TAPHYSICS. 73

have any function, must heal. Not by a direct act
of power but by giving to the Ego a Reason,
which has clear and distinct ideas of things, is the
Divine activity conceived by Descartes. These
ideas of Reason are really the creative thought of
the object, by which the Ego re-thinks the gener
ative principle of the World, though our philoso
pher does not express the matter in this way.
For he conceives these Ideas of Reason as coming
from God directly and as giving to the Ego the
capacity to grasp the objective world in its truth.
Whatever is clear and distinct to me is of Divine
sending and authority , I cannot reject it without
rejecting God.

Still I am often deceived, am indeed very fal
lible, whence comes my errors? From myself;
all error is self-deception. Descartes assigns to
a particular faculty or mental activity the ground
of error : it is the Will, which can affirm or deny
any kind of conception or judgment. It is pos
sible for the Will to choose the indistinct, unclear,
and hence undivine conception — whereby comes
untruth , delusion , the lie. But how are we to know
that such untruth may not be from a supernal
source, that God Himself may not will at times
to deceive us, as He does will at all times to let
us be deceived. Here we are met by a new
Cartesian assumption.

This is the inherent, necessary veracity of
God, who cannot tell a lie to man. After im-

74 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

parting to the latter a clear and distinct idea of
an object, He cannot employ such an affirmation
of Himself as a means of deception. He would
then be God and Devil in one, no better than
that lying heathen God of the old Greeks, Zeus,
who sent a deceptive dream to Agamemnon, and
otherwise played fast and loose with poor mor
tals. Error, then, comes from man, not from
God, specially from man's Will, not his Intelli
gence, and still more specially from man's lower
Will affirming undivine unclearness and indis
tinctness of Ideas, not from his higher Will
affirming God-given clear and distinct Ideas.
Really this choice of the Will is man's own act
of destiny, choosing whether he will be the
victim of delusion knocked about by lying fiends
or the successful follower of truth.

Undoubtedly this character of God, which ex
cludes the negative, gives rise to great difficul
ties. Is He not then made limited in his infinity,
made imperfect through His very perfection?
These and similar questions, Theology, and
particularly Protestant Theology, will thresh
over with enormous heat, which will sometimes
become the literal heat of the burning stake.
This part we may drop, and turn to another
rising interrogation which is more relevant:
What manifestation of this Divine certainty in
human science? Perceived subjectively we find
it in clear and distinct Ideas, but that which

DESCAE TES. — ME TAPBYSICS. 75

gives us objective reality ought to have in itself
a form of objective reality, Descartes has his
answer to this question also: Mathematics,
especially Geometry.

This is a new stage in the Cartesian conception
of God. The first stage was the immediate act
of God in granting clear and distinct Ideas to
man for knowing the object. But now a science
for man's knowing the object is interjected be
tween God and man, the latter having primarily
to learn this science in order to know objective
truth. Such a science, taken by itself, is truly
God's science, being the divine thought ruling in
the world.

(2) Mathematical science, then, is the manifesta
tion of God's certainty in a real process or method.
We have reached the great scientific purpose of
Descartes, which is to introduce into Metaphysics
the certainty and metljod of Mathematics. This
seems to have been a faint gleam of insight while
he was still in school at La Fleche; but it came
upon him as a light illuminating his whole future
in his spiritual crisis at Neuburg. We have al
ready noted his strong reaction against the meta_
physical scholastic philosophy in which he had
been instructed. He is now going to conceive a
machine for working the world without any in
tervention of caprice. In the previous (imme
diate) stage the individual could choose the un-

76 MODERN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

clear and indistinct Ideas; but in Mathematics
there is no such choice.

Thus Descartes makes God essentially mathe
matical, and gives a turn to the whole Seventeenth
Century, or rather expresses the essence of the
science of that Century. This science sought to
formulate the mechanical Universe mathemati
cally; it was the age of Copernicus, Kepler,
Galileo. Nature has a mathematical determinant
which man must find; thereby he finds God
who is essentially a geometric process control
ling all matter ideally. Philosophy becomes a
kind of universal Geometry which starts with its
three axioms or postulates, Man, God, World.
These are properly abstractions from the Uni
verse which contains all these in its process. In
like manner Geometry abstracts its three postu
lates, surface, line, and point, from solid matter,
and works over these ideal elements into geo
metric science. God utters himself geometrically,
and Philosophy, as the supreme science, is to
follow the same method. This thought will be
taken up and carried out by Spinoza, whose chief
work will have the formal geometric procedure.
But Descartes did not realize his own doctrine as
to method.

Mathematics may be called an ideal machine
constructed by mind for controlling matter. The
science proceeds mechanically, by determining
its object from without. In the time of Des-

DESCAK TES. — ME TAPE YSICS. 77

cartes the Universe was deemed a huge machine,
and the grand object was to find its ideal princi
ple. Hence it comes that Descartes was both
mathematician and philosopher, being equally
great in both fields and for the same fundamental
reason. Or we may say that in Descartes the math
ematician and the philosopher are not yet differen
tiated. If he started modern Philosophy by his
assertion of the Being of the Ego, he also gave a
decided bent to modern mathematics by his dis
covery of Analytical Geometry. In this he is a
return to ancient Pythagoreanism which likewise
saw in Mathematics a divine principle.

Here, however, the difficulty of this view
appears. The machine made or discovered by
mind for controlling nature, is brought to turn
about and to control that mind which made it.
Descartes, through his mathematical God, puts
the creature over the creator, the mind-made
over the mind making it. Hence mind will begin
to be dissatisfied with such a conception of God.
It is at this point that we may place another well-
known principle of Descartes, his hostility to
Final Causes, or Design. He says that he will
not " examine the ends which God proposed to
Himself in creating the world;" that lies beyond
our reach, and it is " presumptuous for us to
think that God has taken us into his counsel " in
such a far-reaching transaction. Hence man
ought to confine himself to " efficient Causes,"

78 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

which are the direct laws of Nature derived from
our senses, and seen by us as " clear and distinct
Ideas." Thus Descartes rejects the teleologic
principle as out of the range of the human mind.
The mathematical God does not permit teleology ;
he made mathematics as nature-controlling; what
ulterior design he had in such an act it is imper
tinent and indeed foolish to ask. So Descartes
would confine us to knowing God as machine-
maker.

But it is soon seen that this narrow view con
tradicts both God's and Man's nature. Whence
comes this Ego which is to know and this
object which is to be known? Is God simply
reduced to a means for uniting in knowledge
these two opposite elements, Ego and World, as
given? Of necessity Descartes himself is pushed
to his third conception of God, which regards
Him as creative.

(3) The creative God must go back and create
these presuppositions which Descartes has
hitherto taken for granted, Ego and World, or
mind and matter. Thus the Substances hitherto
three become of two kinds, the uncreated (or
self-created) and the created. This thought
makes very plainly a new phase in the Cartesian
Philosophy. God primarily was the cause of
Man's knowing the object; but now He is
the cause of Man and Object, and hence the
cause of their difference and opposition, which

DESCAE TES. — ME TAPHYSICS. 79

it was his first function to overcome, according
to Descartes. Thus the grand separation be
tween mind and matter is God's own work, which
separation it is His further work to undo. Herein
we have God conceived as the process of the
total universe, positing and canceling its differ
ences, whereby all division and multiplicity is
reduced to a mere play or appearance in God.
This is the side of Descartes which will be devel
oped through Malebranche.into Spinoza, who will
make the one creative God of Descartes just the
one Substance of the Universe, of which the two
created Substances are but attributes (Thought
and Extension), which, becoming individualized,
are merely transitory modes. Thus Cartesian-
ism passes over into Spinozisin by its own inner
development.

The three main categories of Spinoza's Meta
physics are derived from Descartes — Substance,
Attribute, Mode. It is true that Spinoza uses them
all in a new sense, yet in a sense directly evolved
out of that of Descartes. Both of these created
Substances have Attributes — that of matter is
Extension, that of mind is Thought. Thus
Thought and Extension are not yet direct At
tributes of the One Substance, as in Spinoza.
Every other predicate of matter presupposes
Extension, hence is a Mode of it according to
Descartes. Everything predicated of mind pre
supposes Thought, of which it is, therefore, a

80 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Mode. Thus Descartes furnishes Spinoza with
his main categories and suggests their evolution.
God is likewise self-cause (causa sui) according
to Descartes, of which conception Spinoza will
make great use, beginning with it his Ethics.

Such are the three Gods of Descartes, or his
views of God, the immediate, the mathematical
and the creative. It is evident that Descartes
falls between those mighty opposites, the Trans
cendence and the Immanence of God. On the
one hand he asserts God as supremely trans
cendent, as creating everything, even the true
and the false, right and wrong, by an act of his
arbitrary will from the outside; strictly then God
must be also the intentional author of evil, of the
negative. On the other hand Descartes makes
God implicitly immanent in the total process of
the Universe of which He is the Creator from
the inside, including Himself (causa sui).
Such is the deepest contradiction in Descartes'
view of God, that between an explicit Trans
cendence and an implicit Immanence, the latter
becoming explicit in the next great philosopher
of the Seventeenth Century, Spinoza.

It is at this point specially that we catch a
glimpse of the Pampsychosis working in Descar
tes, of which he takes one stage or member, sep
arates the same from the total process and makes
it completely transcendent. Thus the other two
members (World and Man) become dependent,

DESCARTES —METAPHYSICS, 81

unnecessary, a mere appearance. God in himself
is the All; what is different is a vanishing, not a
necessary part of the process of the All. Thus
the Spiriozan Pantheism rises to the surface, and
absolute Transcendence dialectically begets its
antithesis, absolute Immanence.

Such is the first or metaphysical stage of the
philosophical Norm as manifested in Descartes.
We observe its psychological character, which
requires the presence of the Ego as the start
ing point. First, I know myself as existent,
secondly, I know God as existent, thirdly, I know
the World as existent. All three form a process
which may be seen in the following statement : the
self -knowing Ego (as existent) knows the World
as existent through God (as existent). Thus
the total process of the Universe — God, World,
and Man — interlinks with that of the Ego in
order that the latter may know the object (or the
World). The Ego is explicitly introduced into
the process of the All, which determines it to
cognition. On the one hand it asserts itself as
present and self-conscious in the philosophical
Norm, yet it is on the other hand still determined
by that Norm, The time is coming, however,
when it will determine its Norm and thereby
begin a new Discipline. The greatness of the
present step will be manifest when we think that
in the Greek and Medieval Periods the Ego did
not appear directly, in its own right. Hence

6

82 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHILOSOPH Y.

it comes that Modern Philosophy is a Philosophy
of Psychology, not a Psychology of Philosophy,
which is something very different. The Being of
the Ego is here the theme, which will lead up to
the Ego of Being. In these thoughts we may see
the great significance of Descartes, and under
stand what a new epoch he began in the History
of Philosophy.

We have noted that the outcome of the fore
going metaphysical stage of Descartes is that
God makes Man to know the Object or the World.
But the next stage is the second or the physical,
which seeks to tell what this knowledge is, and
so carries us over from the knowing to the known.

o

To this, then, we pass.

B. PHYSICS.

Throughout the previous stage of Metaphysics
there was always something given : the World,
Nature, Object. This was what the Ego was to
know and the process of such knowledge consti
tuted the main interest. But now comes the sec
ond great question : what is this knowledge of the
Object or of the World? Having found out that
we can know, and how we know, we wish to find
out the content of such knowledge. This must be
important, indeed the real purpose of the whole
discussion, since it would hardly be worth while to
take so much trouble to discover the How, if the

DE8CAE TES. — PHYSICS. 83

What were insignificant. Descartes has intro
duced God as a means for my knowing the world ;
the philosopher is now to unfold the World as
known, in terms or categories of thought. This
will give Physics, or the science of the World as
natural .

It is well known that Descartes was occupied
with physical science, before he turned specially
to Metaphysics,, Seven years before he pub
lished the Discourse in 1637, we know from his
letters that he was busy with a work which he
called The World (Le Monde). Among other
matters it supported the theory of Copernicus as
to the motion of the Earth. He was preparing
to print his book, when the news reached him
that the Church authorities at Rome had con
demned Galileo for supporting the Copernican
doctrine. At once he gave up the idea of pub
lication, and even thought of burning his papers.
Many years afterwards his leading physical
doctrines were embodied in the Prtncipia, and
printed, Thus Descartes was thrown back from
the object to the subject, from the World out
side to the Self inside, from the product of
knowing to its process. Without denying
openly the authority of the Church, he de
velops andv asserts the Ego, and so he passes
from the physicist to being the philosopher of
Europe, which was just ready to make this turn
inward along with him. For Descartes voiced the

84 MODERN EUBOPE AN PHILOSOPHY.

Spirit of his Age far more deeply and adequately
in his Discourse and in his Meditations than he
could have done in his book on The World. Still
his Physics is properly the second stage of the
philosophical Norm which was working within
him, even if Nature occupied him first . The
physical Universe Descartes summons before
himself, seeking to grasp and to categorize its
leading manifestations, and to order them ac
cording to their essential principles. He will
see in the Cosmos three such elementary
principles, which form in themselves the total
process of Physical Science as he conceived it.
They are Extension (extended Matter), Motion,
Body (the Human Organism with the Soul).

These three stages belong to Nature, or to the
objective World, whose characteristic is external
determination. First, the World as externally
determined is pure continuity, pure Matter (as
Descartes holds), having no separation within
itself, no limit inside, no void outside, the primal
potentiality of all separation. Second is the
world as moving, as internally separated and de
termined by God ; yet this external Motion is
circular or self -returning, the counterpart of
inner self -returning Mind or Ego. Third is the
World as Organic Body which is internally self-
moving and so self-returning, being automatic
temporarily (during life) and being joined to the

DESCAE TES. — PHYSICS. 85

Soul which is self-moving eternally, and hence
immortal.

In these three stages we note the effort of
Nature to become circular or self-returning like
the Ego, or the struggle of the externally de
termined in its rise toward the completely self-
determined, which is at last manifested in the
life of the Human Organism.

I. Extension. Already we have seen that
Descartes designated Matter along with Mind
as a created substance, opposite to Mind in
essence. For if Mind be essentially the self-
conscious, self-determined, self-returning, Matter
on the contrary is the externally determined, the
outward going, the separating. Extended sub
stance cannot be self -centered : its center is every
where, even outside of itself, pure materiality.

But this pure materiality of the Universe must
be, according to Descartes, a material, a real
object yet the essence of all objects. It is not
empty space, but filled; it is extended Substance
in fact, the Body in all Bodies. It is not a mere
thought, or pure intuition (as Kant held) ; it is
matter, the one matter opposite to all thinking.
" The nature of Body consists not in its hardness,
weight, color, or in any other sensible property,
but in its extension into length, breadth and
thickness." (Principia II. 4.) Not gravity,
not impenetrability is the essential fact of the

86 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

corporeal world around us, but Extension, or
Matter as universal.

Thus Descartes asserts a single ultimate prin
ciple for the entire material Universe, which prin
ciple itself must be material. Earth, Heaven,
Sun and Planets to the remotest stars are mani
festations of this real Extension, which also fills
the seemingly vacant intermundane spaces.
Through it everything touches everything else ;
through it the Sun smites me in the face and the
object yonder tickles my eye-ball. It is the uni
versal Matter possessing this outer universality
as Mind has the inner.

Accordingly the physical Universe is (1) un
limited, can have no bounds in Extension, which
is always outside the limit, even its own limit.
Pure Extension can suffer no limitation ; it is
beyond every bounded Body, hence beyond itself
when bounded. Herein Descartes differs from
the chief Greek thinkers, who with their sense
of form could not tolerate an unlimited Cosmos,
which seemed to them rather Chaos. Melissos
the Eleatic was a notable exception. (2) The
physical universe is full, has no Void, and so no
atoms. The smallest particle is still divisible;
there is no limit where separation ceases. Ex
tension is thus boundless in both directions :
toward the infinitely small as well as toward the
infinitely large. The doctrine of Democritus
(atomism), to which modern physical science

DESCAB TES. — PHYSICS. 87

tends so decidedly, is not accepted by Descartes.
Material Extension simply fills the Universe, al
lowing no vacancy. (3) Hence it is in unbroken
continuity, a continuum, the connecting element
in and through all things. It is in contact with
everything ; it is outside of each material object
of which it is also the inside (or the essence).
We may metaphorically deem it the connecting
tissue of the Universe — itself a tissue connect
ing all tissues.

We have already seen that this Extension
was a direct creation of God along with Mind.
Moreover we can see God's purpose in such cre
ation : to bring together into connection all the
separated objects in the Cosmos. As in the met
aphysical sphere he united the two disparate
substances, Mind and Matter, in an act of knowl
edge, so he now interconnects all the diverse
forms of the physical Universe in a common
medium.

But Extension by its very name and nature
cannot stay with itself and be at rest ; it must be
active and get outside ; it must extend itself. If
it were merely passive, it could be bounded. So
we come to Motion in Descartes. (It is at this
point, however, that Leibniz sees Force in Ex
tension.)

II. Motion. We now enter the physical Uni
verse in a state of motion, of perpetual change.
Here we must go back to Extension to which

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Descartes gives three main capacities: forma-
bility, divisibility and mobility. "I recognize no
other Matter than that formable, divisible and
movable one in corporeal things," and hence
the subject of physical science can only be " these
Forms, Divisions, and Movements," or Extension
formed, divided and moved. (Principia II. 64.)
But as bodies are formed and are divided by means
of Motion, these three elements can be reduced
to one, namely, to Motion, which is thus funda
mental with Descartes.

It is chiefly of Motion that Descartes treats in
the physical portion of his Principia (2nd, 3rd
and 4th Books). To him it was the grand fact
of the Cosmos, the real manifestation of Nature.
Extension, indeed, lies back of it, is the one of
which Motion is the manifold, is the essence of
which Motion is the appearance. The phenomena
of Nature are in one form or other cases of Mo
tion which is itself a modification or attribute of
Extension. We are not to forget that Extension
is invisible, though material; it is the invisible
Universe as Matter, which becomes visible in
Motion.

We shall seek to follow the order of Descartes'
treatment of Motion, as he unfolds it in his Prin
cipia, which is a complete Philosophy of Nature,
one of the greatest and most influential after
Aristotle's. It deeply worked upon Newton and
probably suggested the title to his most important

DESCAIITES. — PHYSICS. 89

book. Descartes evidently conceives his subject-
matter as Motion in its Principles (General
Physics), Motion in the Heavens '(Cosmical
Physics), Motion on Earth (Terrestrial Physics).
A brief outline of each of these portions will
give a survey of the Cartesian Cosmos.

1. Fundamentally, all manifestation, all what
we name phenomena in the physical world comes
of Motion; " all multiplicity of Nature, all her
forms depend on Motion." (Prin. II. 23.)
What is Motion? Descartes gives two defini
tions, a simpler and a more exact. The first
runs: "Motion is an activity whereby a body
passes from one place into another." (II. 24.)
From this definition which gives the appearance,
he passes to the true definition. '« Motion is a
transportation of a part or of a body from the
neighborhood of bodies which are in immediate
contact with it, and which are deemed to be at
rest, into the neighborhood of other bodies."
(II. 25.) Here the emphasis is upon transport
ation (or transference). The body in Motion is
carried from one environment into another.
Therewith we come to the first great fact of all
motion.

(a) All the changes we see in the phenomena
of the physical Universe spring from external
causes. A body remains where it is, unless
moved from without. This is usually called the
law of inertia. Descartes insists that bodies do

90 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

not strive to come to rest of themselves. The
motion of a body continues till some external
cause stop's it and brings it to rest. In like man
ner when it is at rest it is brought to move by an
external cause. Motion thus is determined from
without, is transferred to bodies, and so can be
measured on account of its mechanical char
acter. The physical Universe is in motion,
is one whirl of the finite movements of bodies.
Who started this line of external Motion? The
answer of Descartes is, God.

(&) The quantity of Motion in the physical
Universe is always the same. " God in the be
ginning created Matter with motion and rest,
and preserves the same amount of motion and
rest that He created in the beginning." (II. 36.)
But the distribution of this motion and rest is
variable, though the quantity be constant. Sec
ondary causes play in and break up this solid
mass of motion into the millionfold phenomena
we witness around us, which are, according to
Descartes, modifications of Motion.

(c) The physical universe is a vast congeries
of motions, which intertwine and participate in
one another. The watch in my pocket has its
motion or series of motions ; still it moves with
my body, which also has a great complexity of
motions, inner and outer; uiy body with all its
motions along with uiy watch and all its motions,

DESCAE TES. — PHYSICS. 9 1

being on shipboard, participates in the motion of
the ship which itself moves to water and wind.

Moreover the motion of a body has a tendency
to become circular. There is no vacant space
and so no vacant place in the Universe ; all are
taken. If a body leaves its place, another body
must take that place, while the first body moves
into another place, dispossessing still another
body which in its turn has to do the same.
And so the line goes on till it returns to the first
moving body, forming a circle of Motion. Says
Descartes : "As all places are filled with bodies,
so every body must be moving in a circle, for it
must expel the body from the place into which
it moves, which expelled body must expel another
body out of its place, and so on till the last ex
pelled body enters the place abandoned by the
first body at the very moment of its abandon
ment." (11.33.) Thus Descartes tries to elimi
nate time as an element of motion in order to
get rid of any Void — wherein lies a tremendous
difficulty for him. Still we see that every mov
ing body is in a cycle of motion, wherein we may
behold the beginning of his vortices which are
soon to be witnessed on a much vaster scale.

The principle of Motion in Descartes is, there
fore, circular; every fragment of Motion is, when
seen by thought, the segment of a circle, and
so is really geometric. Extension, by its own
inner nature extending itself, becomes Motion,

92 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which again returns into itself and produces the
typical phenomenon, or the universal principle of
Physics in the realm of movement, as we behold
it above us in the Heavens and around us on
Earth.

2. Descartes passes to the application of the
principles of Motion, first considering the celes
tial world (called by him the visible world).
This science has been named Cosmical Physics,,
whose treatment we find in the Third Part of his
Principia. It is an attempt to account for the
visible Heavens by the laws of Motion.

The first thing which we are to get rid of in
order to place ourselves upon the Cartesian
standpoint, is the idea of universal gravitation,
which has become deeply ingrown with the
Anglo-Saxon mental fibre through the influence
of Newton. All Motion in the physical Universe
is produced by immediate contact or impact of
body with body ; there is no such thing as the
action of one body upon another at a distance.
Hence the attraction of gravitation, which is such
an actio in distans, is not accepted by Descartes.
Bodies have no occult qualities or hidden powers
by which they can work upon other bodies far
away. Herein Descartes is different from both
Galileo and Newton, though it is said that New
ton deliberated a good while before giving up the
Cartesian view which he thoroughly studied.

DESCARTES. — PHYSICS. 93

The next point we have to consider is that the
Universe is fall of a fluid matter in which are the
solids, namely planets, sun, stars, and all the
heavenly bodies. There is no vacant space;
where there is no solid, there is a fluid. Thus
the heavenly bodies are floating in a cosmic
fluid, which may well be the material extension
already described.

Now if Motion be externally imparted to the
cosmic fluid in which the celestial spheres are
lying at rest, a current will be started which will
carry them forward. All those which are in the
same general current will remain in the same
relative position toward one another. The
Motion of this current is circular, whirling
around a center, and in this whirl are borne
along the solid objects which are in the fluid.
This is the Cartesian vortex, or whirlpool of
cosmic fluid. The physical Universe is full of
such vortices; indeed we have seen that every
motion of an object has a tendency to round
itself out into a circle, so that upon the earth
there is an infinite complex of rings of Motion.

Passing by the more distant vortices, we may
observe the one which is of most interest to us,
namely, the vortex of the solar system, of which
the Sun is the center. Round this center the
planets (including our Earth) are spinning in the
cosmic fluid which bears them onward in their
orbits, while they are at rest. (Prin. III. 30.)

94 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

It is an external cause which makes them rotate
(ultimately the act of God), and thus produces
the vortex (or tourbillon).

Now it was upon this cosmical theater that
Descartes played a comedy with the theologians
at which the world is still laughing. As already
stated, the Church had condemned the doctrine
of Copernicus that the Earth moves around the
Sun instead of standing still. We have seen that
at first he was struck dumb by the sentence
against Galileo, and refused to print his book on
The World. But after many years (some four
teen), he gathers courage enough to publish his
views in a new book (the Principia)> in which
the theory of the vortex appears with the Earth
at rest yet at the same time moving around the
Sun. To the theologians who tried to catch him
he could say and did actually say, Behold, my
theory maintains that the Earth is at rest.
But to the scientists he could also say, Behold,
my theory maintains the Earth's revolution
around the Sun. There is no doubt that this
last view was his real conviction. At the same
time he did not openly wish to break with the
Church. Moreover his theory of vortices he
honestly held, it was not twisted to avoid eccle
siastical censure. Descartes was too good a man
to pervert scientific truth, but he was not too good
a man to use it, when honestly found, to foil his
enemies. The theory of vortices runs through

DESCARTES. — PHYSICS. 95

his whole Philosophy of Nature, it was not
applied merely to the earth and the solar system.
To Descartes it was the honest truth, which,
however, he used dishonestly. Nothing else can
be made out of his own statement in a letter :
" You see that in terms I deny the motion of the
Earth, while I really affirm the system of
Copernicus.'*

3. In the Fourth Part of his Principia, Des
cartes conies to the phenomena of the Earth,
for explaining which he proposes to use the
hypothesis already set forth. So we have here a
treatise upon Terrestrial Physics, which em
braces a great variety of subjects pertaining to
Natural Science. As his principle has been
already given, we need not go into these details.

In the last section (IV. 207) he says: "I
submit everything to the authority of the Cath
olic Church, as well as to the judgment of those
who know." But suppose this authority and
this judgment should conflict, which is to be
followed? Descartes does not tell us in words,
but in action he stays in Holland out of the reach
of his Church, which at last after his death put
his philosophical writings upon the index of
books forbidden (in 1663). This prohibition
was brought about through the Jesuits, who had
been Descartes' teachers, and whose instruction
probably did not mend the inborn duplicity
which runs through his character, particularly

96 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

in reference to religion, even if he be deemed
true to science. But faith in his scientific
fidelity is put to a great strain when he expressly
says that his hypothesis of the Universe not
simply may be, but actually is false, in certain
respects. Still he always winds up his submis-
siveness with a declaration similar to the one
which we find at the close of the Principia:
" I would not have anybody accept anything as
true but what he is convinced of by clear and
irrefutable grounds." Here lies his real convic
tion round which plays so much Jesuitry, chiefly
employed, be it said, in wheedling Jesuits, who
never could put their grip upon their foxy pupil
till he had lain thirteen years in his grave.
Then his ashes were refused interment in a
French Church, a monument to him was for
bidden, his doctrines were not allowed -to be
taught in the Schools of France. King Louis
XIV., the absolutist, could not tolerate the ref
erence of truth to the individual Ego, and so
he sought to extirpate Cartesianism as he did
Protestantism.

Looking back upon this second stage of Physics
which treats of the Universe in Motion, we may
recall the thought which unifies it with the Carte
sian Philosophy as a whole. It is God who sets
this vast machine in motion, " giving to its parts
all their varied movements at the creation of
Matter, and preserving the same quantity of

DESCARTES — PHYSICS. 97

motion forever." (II. 36.) God is thus the
external cause of the external causation of the
Universe. He creates the mechanism and sets
it a-going through the primitive impact, which
reproduces itself in all the variety of motion ac
cording to mechanical laws. God is thus the
means of movement just as He is of knowledge.
In this sphere specially He manifests Himself
mathematically, since all these motions, celestial
and terrestrial, are not capricious acts of His
will, but are controlled by laws which it is the
function of physical science to discover. Still
it is God who establishes and works through
these laws.

But now the Body moving in a circle outside
itself, and thus manifesting motion externally,
is to have the circular motion inside itself and
thus become the living organism.

III. Body (as organic and connected with the
Soul). The circular principle (the vortex), which
we have noticed throughout the Cartesian Phys
ics, is now internalized in Body, and constitutes
the vital element of the same, which thereby has
its own round of existence within itself.. Still
the motion of the organic Body is mechanical,
though internally so ; it moves its own mechanism,
and hence is called an automaton.

With the bodily organism of Man is joined
another principle, the Soul, which is also self-
moved and has its own separate round of exist-

7

98 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ence. Body and Soul are the Siamese twins,
each with its own- individual life and movement,
yet indissolubly bound together. To Physics
belongs the consideration of the Soul, in so far as
it is directly connected with the human Body,
specially in sensation. Hence Descartes intro
duces a discussion of the Five Senses toward the
end of his Principia.

The complete separation between Soul and
Body is one of the best known doctrines of Des
cartes. The body is an independent machine,
and is moved within itself by mechanical causes
like the rest of the physical Universe. The liv
ing Body as such is not moved by the Soul, as
is the common opinion. Life is not a result of
the Soul, but the condition of the latter's enter
ing the Body. When the Body is dead the Soul
leaves it. The Body is an automaton, or a
mechanism with a principle of temporary self-
movement within itself, like a watch, which runs
of itself while it is wound up. Life is but the
manifestation of this automatic motion of the
Body. Very different is the Soul which simply
dwells .in the Body as in its house. An animal
has no Soul, having no self-conscious activity;
it is simply Body with life, an automaton.

Still, in spite of this separation, Soul and
Body are intimately connected together, and
each influences the other. Descartes insists in
the first place, that "the Soul is joined to

DESCARTES. — PHYSICS. 99

the whole Body in every. member," but that,
in the second place, "there is in the Body a
part in which the Soul exercises its functions
more particularly than in all the rest of the
parts." (Passions of the Soul, Art. 30, 31.)
This part in which the union takes place is " a
very small gland situated in the middle of the
brain," the so-called conarium or pineal gland.
This is Descartes' famous "seat of the Soul,"
in which the transfer is made, from the extended
to the non-extended, from the material to the
spiritual, from the passive (sensory) to the ac
tive (motor) principle (and vice versa in each
case). Of course, Descartes brings us no
nearer an explanation of this phenomenon.
Though he confines it to " one very small gland "
in which seems unified the doubleness of the
body (two sides of the brain, two eyes, two
hands, etc.), the chasm between Soul and Bodjr
is as great as ever just there. The Soul (or
Ego) cannot be moved to take up the stimulating
object even in the finest recess of the pineal
gland without the help of God, who is the ulti
mate power bringing me to know the world.
Such is the Cartesian principle, even when Des
cartes does not directly introduce it into his ex
position, which gets to be the case more and
more, as he advances in life.

If we now consider the process of Body and
Soul in its physical aspect, we observe the fol-

100 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

lowing stages : ( 1 ) ^The Body is an automatic
totality on the one side, and on the other side
the Soul is a similar, though higher, totality ;
each is independent, yet Soul is joined to Body
" in every member," each influencing the other.
(2) This universal relation between Body and
Soul is specialized, localized, materialized in one
particular organ, the pineal gland, which can be
moved " by the animal spirits in as many differ
ent ways as there are sensible differences in ob
jects " on the one hand, and at the same time it
" can be moved in divers ways by the Soul,"
which responds in its impressions according to
the movement of the gland, and thus reacts,
44 impelling the animal spirits outward, through
the pores of the brain, and thence to the nerves
and the muscles," which cause the motions of
the Body. (3) Thus the Soul is determined by
the Body through the gland. It is to be noticed
that here " the concourse of God" is omitted
as is usual in the Treatise on the Passions, which
is in this regard distinguished from the earlier
Treatises.

The determination of the Soul through the
Body is the first stage of what Descartes calls
Passion of the Soul, which, however, reacts and
determines the Body, wherewith the stage of
Cartesian Physics is brought to a conclusion,
since Nature as an external principle is now sub
ordinated to an internal principle.

DESCARTES.— PHYSICS. 101

If we now take a glance back at the three stages
of Physics — Extension, Motion, Organic Body—
we find that properly God is employed as an ex
ternal mechanical means for determining each of
them to activity. He is not only the machine-
maker of the Universe, but primarily the ma
chine-mover. Such is the philosopher's conception
of the physical world. Yet this conception tallies
with the metaphysical process in which the Ego
gets to know the object through help of God.
There is no doubt, however, that Descartes in
his later writings showed more and more the
tendency to leave out this principle of divine
interference, particularly between Soul and Body.

The Soul has manifested a doubleness within
itself: it is determined from without by the
Body, and even dwells in a material abode. But
it is also determined from within, it reacts
against the influence of the Body and controls
or puts down the corporeal stimulations which
come to it mechanically. In the first case the
Soul is still a portion of the mechanical Universe
and belongs to Physics. But in the second case
it definitely overcomes its own mechanical side
and so reaches beyond Physics into a new realm.
The Soul is the turning-point over into the fol
lowing sphere which is Ethics. Herein the
essentially mechanical genius of Descartes, hav
ing performed its greatest work, has reached its

102 MODEBN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

limit, and will manifest a decline of native
power.

The Organic Body in its circular process may
be deemed to be Extension realized; what lies
implicit in Extension is made explicit, since the
extended as Body is turned back into itself
internally. Thus the second stage of the philo
sophic Norm, Physics, rounds itself out to a
completed movement. The Soul having taken
up the highest physical process, that €>f the
Body, into itself and determined the same, has
borne us forward into the next stage.

C. ETHICS.

This third stage of the philosophical Norm is
not very strong in Descartes. In his life the
ethical element (in the widest and deepest sense
of the word) must be pronounced to be deficient,
and the same lack is discoverable in his system of
Philosophy as a whole. Still this element is not
wholly wanting. Descartes knew of Ethics from
the ancient moralists, knew that this science
belonged to the philosophic totality as developed
by the great masters of antiquity. He has,
therefore, his ethical strand, but it is fragmen
tary. His doctrine of morals is not set forth in
any special work, but is given cursorily in his
various books and essays, and specially in his
letters to the Princess Elizabeth, and in those

DESCARTES. -ETHICS. 103

intended for the Queen of Sweden. These letters
in both cases show his starting-point to be the
ancient heathen moralists, whom he criticises,
yet in a manner follows.

The ethical return to God or to the First Prin
ciple he has not in its complete sweep, such as
we see it already in Plato and Aristotle. Des
cartes (as before observed) has little sense for the
meaning of institutions. Their ethical purport
and position he quite ignores. This deficiency
we may trace to the circumstances of his life,
to his separation from his own State and Church ;
still such a separation was his own free act, and
indicates his character. At this point there is a
deep gap in his Philosophy as a Whole ; the
ultimate nexus joining the last to the first, con
necting the individual and the universe, is not dis
tinctly present, though not altogether absent.
What there is of it, we shall seek to give in brief

outline.

The consideration of the movement of Carte
sian Ethics goes back to his doctrine of the Soul,
whose activities must be grasped in their right
relation, and in their subordination of the higher
to the lower, for instance of impulse to reason.
Thus the psychical furnishes the basis for the ethi
cal, or rather the pyschical is a stage of the ethi
cal. Then there is a distinct moral stage in con
trast with the institutional stage, the one giving the
subjective behest, the other giving the objective

104 MODEEN E UBOPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

law. That is, the entire range of Ethics, as the
third division of the philosophical Norm, will
show three stages, the psychical, the moral, and
the institutional. Descartes is to be considered
in his relation to each of these stages.

I. THE PSYCHICAL ELEMENT. — In his treatise
called The Passions of the Soul, Descartes gives
the psychical principles underlying his Ethics.
Man is the union of Soul and Body, which are
wholly separate in their human union, as we
have already seen. Thought is the essence of
Soul, Motion is the essence of Body, the Passions
result from the connection of the two, and
are a kind of mediating principle between
the opposites. The Passions are peculiar
to man, animals have no souls and hence
no passions strictly. Animals have bodies
with sensation and desire, but have no souls
with self-conscious thought, have no clear and
distinct ideas. Man is,, therefore, dual, and this
dualism is chiefly manifested in his Passions, in
which lies the possibility of his moral being.

The primal notion of Descartes is that the Soul
in Passion is passive, that is, is determined from
without by " the animal spirits which are like a
very fine wind, or better, a pure flame which is
constantly ascending to the brain," being com
posed of " the finest, most fiery and mobile par
ticles of the blood." In the pineal gland
(which is at the center of the brain) these animal

DESCARTES. - ETHICS. 105

spirits somehow reach and stimulate the Soul
which is immaterial and non-extended, properly
by the «« concourse of God." So after all this
elaborate machinery of the Body has performed
its work, the little miracle lies couched in the
little gland.

At any rate'4 the animal spirits " coming from
the outside, determine the Soul, which responds,
suffers, is passive. This is the original source
of the Passions, but the Soul is in its essence,
thought, self-conscious and self-determined;
hence this yielding to Passion or to determina
tion from without contradicts its deepest nature.
Accordingly the Will with its suppression of Pas
sion enters at this point, wherewith the Soul
asserts its freedom. Such is the conflict which
lies properly between Soul and Body, each seeking
to be the determinant of the other. It is wrong
to say (declares Descartes) that this contest
takes place in the mind, between two opposite
parts of the Soul, for the Soul is one and indi
visible.

The central or at least the intermediate agent
in the foregoing conflict, is the Will, which is of
two kinds : in the one kind its end is the Soul
itself, and in the other its end is the Body. The
weak Soul is one that has a Will " which is
carried away by immediate Passions," and which
"does not employ its proper arms, namely a
fixed and firm judgment pertaining to the knowl-

1 06 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPH Y.

edge of good and evil." (Passions of the Soul,
Part I, Art. 48, 49.) Moreover there maybe a
false judgment, hence the chief object is to know
the truth ; * ' there is a great difference between
the volitions which proceed from a false opinion
and those which rest upon the knowledge of the
truth." The latter can of course only come
through "clear and distinct ideas," which are,
accordingly, the highest content of the Will,
being given by Reason itself.

From the preceding remarks it is evident that
Descartes employs, in a vague and uncertain man
ner, the fundamental psychical process. This is :
(1) Feeling, which is the essence of Passion, or
the Soul (Ego) determined externally by the
outside world; (2) Will, or the active power,
which is double, on the one hand obeying and
executing Passion, on the other hand subordin
ating it and asserting the Soul's self-determina
tion; (3) Intellect, Judgment, Reason, clear
and distinct Ideas, which form the supreme con
tent of the Will. These three distinctions or
activities of the Soul (or Ego), which have a
great future before them, may be found com
mingled with many other and less pertinent dis
tinctions, in the First Part of the above men
tioned treatise on The Passions of 'the Soul, in
dicating that the germ of Psychology was deeply
imbedded in the mind of Descartes, though un-
separated as yet from many foreign ingredients.

DESCAE TES.—E THICS. 107

It is evident that the preceding psychical move
ment has unfolded the specially moral element
which comes to light in the subordination of Pas
sion to Reason, of outer necessity to inner free
dom, of Body to Soul, of the obscure and con
fused in thought to the clear and distinct.

The word Passion in Descartes has a wide
usage, and often seems to correspond nearly to
what we call a faculty of mind, or mental activity.
The Soul is Ego, and the Passions of the Soul
are its activities. Perception and Imagination he
regards as Passions. At times he distinguishes
Will, or the reaction of the Soul, from Passion;
then, again, he seems to regard it under the gen
eral head of Passion, which in the widest sense
is the Soul both suffering and doing, active and
passive. He has begun classifying the activities
of the Ego as it subordinates the outer world,
and thereby can become ethical. Passion in
Descartes' view is a natural condition of the Soul
and is to be noted and investigated like the facts
of nature in Physics. Such an investigation is
the first stage (the psychical) of Ethical Science.

It is important to observe that he has the
notion of self -consciousness, even if somewhat
dim. This he calls perception «« which has as its
cause the Soul," not the Body, which gives an
other kind of perception. Through the Soul's
perception we perceive " our volitions, our imag
inations, or other thoughts which depend on

108 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

these; " that is, the Soul perceives its own acts;
"for it is certain that we cannot will anything
without our perceiving by the same means that
we will it; " and hence "one can say that the
Soul has a passion of perceiving that it wills ' '
when it wills. Self-consciousness also is, then,
with Descartes, a passion. By Leibniz this kind
of perception, to distinguish it from that of the
Body, will be called apperception. (See Passions
of the Soul, I, Art. 19.)

Thus the psychical movement of the Ego, un
folding in Descartes the Passions of the Soul,
begins to show itself in its three main forms of
Feeling, Will, and Intellect, together with the
underlying self-conscious activity, which is like
wise a Passion. Note the place in the Cartesian
system assigned to this psychical movement of
the Ego, for it is hereafter to occupy a very dif
ferent position in the Norm, being transferred to
the first place and made the basis for a total
transformation of Philosophy itself.

With the power of controlling its own move
ments through the Will and Intellect, the Soul
rises to the next sphere.

II. THE MORAL ELEMENT. — The Passions in
themselves are neither moral nor immoral, ac
cording to Descartes. Hence in his treatise on
the Passions he indicates that his procedure is
not that of a preacher or of a moralist, but that
of a physicist. They are natural phenomena

DESCARTES. — ETHICS. 109

which are to be investigated, defined and classi
fied. Still they lead directly to good and evil, to
pleasure and pain, to advantage and disadvantage,
and so have to be moralized. Says he : "We
see that the Passions are all good of their own
nature, and that we have nothing to avoid in them
except their excess or improper employment,"
through which they become injurious (III, Art.
211). On the latter score he gives various
warnings against the sudden surprise of Pas
sion ; we are never to forget that ' ' everything
presenting itself to the imagination tends to
deceive the Soul." Those succeed best «« who
accustom themselves to make some reflection
upon their actions before proceeding to act."
The judgment of the Reason should always be
obtained for the conduct of the Will (note that
Descartes here regards Passion in its first or im
mediate form).

Descartes gives a classification of the Passions,
with a description, usually brief, of the most
important ones. It is not every object presented
by the senses, which has the power of exciting
44 the animal spirits," and so producing Passion.
Each individual differs in regard to what may
stimulate Passion, and the same individual varies
accoivding to his mood or the state of his Soul.
Thus there is an endless variety of Passions,
each of which has its own distinct character.
Descartes reduces them to two fundamental

110 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

forms : admiration ( wonder) which is ' * the sudden
surprise of the Soul leading it to regard rare and
extraordinary objects," and desire (wish to
possess), which is *« an agitation of the Soul
caused by the animal spirits disposing it to will
agreeable objects for the future." Thustheone
is essentially incoming and the other outgoing.
From these two Descartes develops what he calls
his six primitive Passions, which «' are as it were
the genera whose species are all the other Pas
sions " (III, Art. 149). After these come
4 'the particular Passions" as he names them,
one of which stands out very prominent, called
by him generosity , " which causes a man to
esteem himself at the highest point which can
be legitimately allowed."

This generosity ( noble - inindedness ) also
named by him magnanimity, is not Pride (orgueil)
but rather the opposite, proceeding from the
consciousness of freedom from all Passion. It is
the free disposition, not determined from without,
but self-determined, hence ' ' naturally impelled to
do great things," but restrained from " under
taking anything of which it does not feel itself
capable. ' ' So we behold the picture of « ' the gener
ous ' ' man or gentleman, who is « « always perfectly
courteous, affable, full of services toward every
body. He is completely master of his Passions,
particularly of hisdesires; without envy, without
hate or fear or wrath." (Ill, Art. 155-6.)

DESCAE TES — E THICS. 1 1 1

Thus "generosity" seems to be the supreme
virtue, the highest moral attainment. In the
foregoing description Descartes is generally sup
posed to be looking at himself, and in a manner
justifying his own character which had in it quite
a portion of self-esteem, or, as the poet would
call it, self -reverence. In fact, the introduction
to this treatise on the Passions gives a specimen
of his " generosity." He blames the ancients
for their lack of all information on the present
subject, " so that I have no hope of getting at
the truth except by separating myself from
them." Hence he feels himself obliged to
write " as if I were treating a matter which
nobody before me had ever touched." Yet our
author's work is plainly constructed after Aris
totle's Ethics, to which it is vastly inferior; in
fact, Descartes' own " generosity," has a dis
tinct likeness to Aristotle's magnanimity (megalo-
psychia) in which Descartes must have found
himself.

Still our philosopher has the great merit of
seeing and declaring that freedom is the end and
content of the moral Soul. The moral catharsis
is the ascent into complete freedom. Of this
ascent we may note three stages in Descartes : —

(1) The first is the freedom from Passion,
from external determination, which the Soul must
strive for through the exercise of its Free- Will

112 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

moving from within against the outer determin
ant. Of this stage enough has been already said.

(2) The second is the freedom from Error,
whose source lies just in the Free- Will, which
can affirm the false or the true judgment, the
obscure or the distinct idea. For Will in its
freedom is the unlimited, while Intellect (as
memory or imagination) is " very small and lim
ited in me . " So it seems that « « in my Free-Will
I experience something greater than anything
else I can conceive of ; " so great is it that
*« through it principally I am brought to recog
nize that I bear the image of God " (Meditation,
IV ) . Hence my Will must be trained to take
the well grounded judgment, the clear and dis
tinct idea, re-affirming what reason affirms,
rejecting all that is ungrounded or obscure.

We are the source of our errors, not God, who
cannot deceive us, being the source of truth.
But behind this last source we cannot go, hence
we cannot know the purposes of God, or final
causes. The teleological explanation of nature
is therefore erroneous. God gives us clear and
distinct ideas for knowing the world, not for
knowing himself; He is means for us, not end.
We are to keep our Will in the limits of our In
telligence (entendement) , if we wish to escape
from error. Hence there is need of the suspen
sion of judgment till the i^ea is given clear and
distinct.

DE 8 CAR TES —E TIIICS. 113

We are, accordingly, to acquire freedom from
error as a habit (habitude):, " for in this con
sists the greatest and principal perfection of
man " (Meditation, IV). So our moral perfec
tion is decidedly intellectual : not to permit our
Will to have any other content but the clear and
distinct Idea. Thus our actions will be good,
being filled with the highest rational content.
And yet this is not quite enough for Descartes.

(3) Man is unceasingly to affirm his freedom,
securing it, willing it, fighting for it as the chief
boon of life. This is properly the most exalted
feature in the character of the generous man :
he sacrifices all for his freedom, he is determined
to live his own life as a free being; fortune,
family, and even country he can throw away (as
Descartes did) for the sake of personal freedom.
He may live for philosophy or science, but first
he must live for freedom, which he has to safe
guard as the possibility of all lofty activity.
Free-will has, therefore, to will not only clear
and distinct Ideas, or the soul's enfranchisement
from error, but also to will freedom itself as its
own ultimate end or content. Descartes has this
exalted consciousness of freedom as the world in
which his work is to be done. But the limita
tion is likewise present. His conception of free
dom is essentially individual, not institutional —
a fact which we may next note.

8

114 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

III. THE INSTITUTIONAL ELEMENT. — What we
may call the realm of Social Institutions —
Family, Society, State, Church — whose great
object as a whole is to secure to man his free
dom and to give him a free world to live in, was not
distinctly present to Descartes, at least it does
not appear in his Philosophy as an integral part
of his system.

Already in the Life of Descartes we have
spoken of his relations to State and Church. He
shunned both as something which he knew not
what to do with ; he had a horror of political
and religious innovation ; there was none of the
martyr or even of the institutional reformer in
his blood. He kept out of the way of his own
country and his own religion by living as a vol
untary exile in a foreign country and under a dif
ferent religion. Nor did he ever join the Family,
nor take part in the commercial and industrial
order. Aloofness from the institutional world
was his principle and his life. On the whole his
concentration turned primarily upon his Ego, and
its cognition of Truth, its knowledge of itself,
of God and-of Nature.

A complete freedom Descartes, therefore, can
not attain, since he has no institutions. There
is no free World in his Philosophy to mediate
Man's individual Free-will with the divinely
providential Order, which is the creation of
God's volition. Hence the doctrine of Descartes

DESCAETES. — ETHICS. 115

shows both freedom and determinism, not in
their process but in their opposition. Quite after
the same fashion we have seen in it Transcend
ence and Immanence unreconciled, though both
are stages of the one divine process, and cannot be
held apart without becoming mutually destruc
tive.

What underlies the philosophic act of Des
cartes? Let us see. The philosopher is con
struing God as determining the Ego to know the
object. That is, the Ego of Descartes determines
in thought God who determines it to knowledge.
To be sure this individual Cartesian Ego is kept
in the background, though it is just what creates
the entire new fabric of Divinity before us.
The philosopher determines the God who de
termines him unto his knowledge. Yet he leaves
himself out of this process which he produces,
and of which he is certainly a very important,
indeed the first member. But just that is the
peculiarity of all Philosophy : it formulates the
Law, Cause, Principle of the Universe which is
over all, but it keeps silent about itself as formu-
lator. Philosophy is, therefore, not only abso
lute, but absolutistic, not only imperial but
imperious. For this reason it can never formu
late a complete freedom.

Descartes is still a philosopher and employs the
philosophic Norm, though he begins to put into
it a psychological content, that of the Self. He

116 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

posits a God causing the thinking Ego to know
the object. Yet he is not aware that he is just
that thinking Ego in positing such a God, or
absolute principle. If he could have formulated
the total process and have included himself in it,
he would have transcended the philosophic Norm,
and have given us not merely a new Philosophy,
or a new Period of Philosophy, but a new Norm
with its corresponding Discipline. And yet,
how near to this does he seem ! If he only
could have seen and stated that the thinking
Ego makes in thought the absolute Principle or
God who makes it think, he would have broken
through the transmitted Norm of Philosophy
into that of Psychology.

But this was not yet to be. The Seventeenth
Century is to go to school to Cartesianism, and
receive a great training from it in many things,
but especially in the new conception of God as
distinct from the medieval. The divine world
is not beyond but is here and now at work; God
is not simply religious but is also secular, and
must be seen even in the little act of knowing a
thing. In fact three Centuries will have to be
trained in the school of Descartes and his suc
cessors, and the training is not over yet. The
philosopher of to-day has to go back to him in
order to go through him to the more modern
philosophic inheritance and thus to behold the

DESCARTES. - ETHICS. 117

evolution of himself. What else is the meaning
of this book of ours?

The Spirit of Philosophy voiced by Descartes
speaks : ' 4 1 have been thinking of Being out
side of me hitherto, but now I am going to
think of my own Being, the Being of my Ego,
of my self-conscious Self." Thus the Ego
turns back upon itself and is aware of itself,
but as Being, or rather as the essence of Being.
This is still philosophic, since it seeks the essence
of Being (the ousia of the on) as the given.
Thus the Ego knows itself simply to be, not yet
knowing itself to be creative of Being. The
Being of self-consciousness is asserted, not yet
the self-consciousness of Being. The first is
the beginning, the second is the end, of Modern
Philosophy.

So much for Descartes who is now to be fol
lowed by Spinoza in the supreme philosophic
succession. Already we noted the main point of
development out of the one toward the other.
But there are many little touches in Descartes
which hint the approaching Philosophy. One
such we may cite: "I have already established
that Soul and Body are united in substance
(substantiellement unis)." (See Responses aux
quatriemes objections.) One may well catch
in these two words a brief gleam of the coming
Spinozan substance, which will next appear in all
its fullness.

118 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

2.

We have already stated that Spinoza is the
second of the three supreme philosophers over
arching the Seventeenth Century, and forming
together one great philosophic process. In
this process he is not merely the second, but
also the second stage of it, which is the sepa
rative stage revealing the deepest dualism of the
Century. It seems a strange fact in the history
of thought that the most students of Spinoza
hitherto have only seen, or at least only empha
sized, the pantheistic, monistic, unitary side of
his work. But there is also an individualistic,
personally ethical side to him, upon which several
commentators in recent years have put strong
stress, thus counterbalancing the previous
one-sidedness. In this way the profound two-
sidedness of Spinoza has come to light as never
before; he has in him the abyss of his age,
its deepest contradiction. If he makes God
swallow up the individual on the one hand, on
the other he makes the individual return to God,
and in a manner reproduce Him in such return.
Both these sides rose up in the Seventeenth
Century, grappled with each other, and fought
with desperation. There was the man-devouring
divine absolutism of Louis XIV, in whom all in-

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 119

dividuality was quite lost; then there was the
counterpart in Holland, man-asserting, God-
liberating. Spinoza, living in the heart of this
conflict, has precipitated it into its essence, into
the pure impersonal form of Thought.

The three fundamental utterances of the man
Spinoza are his Life, his Writings, and his Phi
losophy. Between them all is a remarkable like
ness ; each seems to reflect the essence of the
other in being itself, and to reflect the entire
man at the same time. We may well say that
these three parts constitute the whole called
Spinoza, who cannot be conceived adequately
except through " those things which are equally
in each part and in the whole," as his own state
ment runs (JEthics, II, 37).

I. SPINOZA'S LIFE. — There can be no doubt
that Spinoza's Life, when fully taken up and ap
propriated by a human Soul, is a great inspira
tion. In this regard we recognize him at once
to be one of the philosophic heroes of the race,
of the same type and moral composition as Soc
rates. He had the same steady glance beyond
the present into eternity, the same serene pursuit
of the ideal end in defiance of consequences, the
same calm look straight into the face of the De
stroyer. But his we can hardly deem a com
pleted task. Dying at the early age of 44, he
could not round out his philosophic life to its
final fulfillment. Artists and poets may mature

120 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

in youth and pass away ; but the philosopher
ripens slowly at his best. Plato's Republic is
not the product of a young or even of a middle-
aged man, nor is Aristotle's Metaphysics. Kant's
Critique of Pure Reason did not appear till the
author was in his fifty-seventh year. Hegel's
Logic was published when he was forty-six, and
Hegel matured still more afterwards. Spinoza's
life is a grand torso in which we can descry
the outline of the colossal Whole which lay in
him. Great as is his performance, it is a frag
ment, whose conclusion is broken off by the
blow of Fate which gives to the undertone of his
life a plaintive cast. Still we may well regard it
as the most inspiring, soul-elevating modern
philosophic Life.

1. First Period (1632-1656). Baruch de
Spinoza was born of Jewish parents at Am
sterdam, the 24th of November, 1632. After his
expulsion from the synagogue (1656) he changed
the Hebrew Baruch into the Latin Benedictus.
His family name had already in it a Latin ele
ment brought from the Spanish peninsula, whence
his ancestors had come to Holland. With this
complete Latinization of the name was coupled a
similar process in the man, for Spinoza wrote
and apparently thought in Latin, which was still
in his time the language of intercourse between
the learned throughout Europe.

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 12 1

One cannot fully make out from the evidence
whether Spinoza was a Spanish or Portuguese Jew.
It perhaps is of no great consequence; both
classes were closely allied, both were fugitives
from the Spanish Inquisition, both were joined
in one synagogue at Amsterdam, whose popular
language seems to have been Portuguese, as the
anathema pronounced by it upon Spinoza (which
has been found and printed) whs written in that
tongue. The home speech of the Spinozas, how
ever, seems to have been Spanish, a knowledge
of which passed to the child.

The father was probably one of those refugees
who had been coming to Holland for more than
a generation before Spinoza's birth. The Spanish
inquisitors had forced Christianity upon many
Jews who still secretly adhered to their old
faith, and only waited the first opportunity to
throw off their disguise. This new sort of Chris
tians (called Marranos) had heard with delight
of the successful revolt of the Netherlands, and
of the tolerant principles of the House of Orange.
They were, not allowed to emigrate openly, so
they escaped furtively ; the first boat-load from
Portugal is said to have reached Holland in
1593. Three years later the English fleet under
Essex landed a large contingent of these Marranos.
And they kept coming, till in 1598 the first syna
gogue was opened in Amsterdam by permission

122 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of the civil authorities. And still they kept coin
ing, till in 1608 a new synagogue was needed.

What did these people bring to their new
home? The commercial skill and energy of
their race for one thing; also the knowledge of
numerous mechanical trades, which they were
all required to learn. But they likewise brought
a peculiar hardy and defiant spirit which could
not be made to submit to external force though
armed with the authority of State and Church.
That little Portuguese craft — the Jewish May
flower — turned from Spain to the North, not to
the South, not to Africa, not following the ex
pelled Moors cognate in blood and also perse
cuted by the Spaniards. They were Semites,
but they directed their course away from Semitic
lands to those of a different race. In fact the
Spanish people is strongly impregnated with
Semitic blood. Spain has from the earliest ages
been the chief gateway of the Semites into
Europe. The old Phenicians had settlements in
Spain, one of which was Cadiz, a city still ex
isting. The Carthagenians came next, planting
numerous colonies. But the greatest Semitic
invasion was that of the Arabians, whose power
in Spain lasted some seven hundred years, and
under whom the Jews prospered and multiplied.
Thus the Spanish peninsula had been a second
Semitic home, the European one, of that race.
But both branches, Arabians and Jews, with

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 123

their respective religions had been driven from
this European home of theirs, and were seeking
a new abode in other lands.

Thus a small fragment of the disrupted
Jewish people flees from the warm Southern
zone of its ancestors, quite the same in Palestine
and in Spain, and turns to the cold North for its
future dwelling-place. Certainly a very daring,
obstinate body of men chosen by a kind of
Natural Selection to face the dangers of the sea
as well as a wholly foreign latitude and race for
the sake of their conviction. They came to stay,
bringing family, religion and God along. They
had heard that Holland had defeated Spain, their
persecutor, that it had a certain degree of
religious toleration, that it was becoming the first
commercial nation in Europe, thus furnishing a
fine field for native Jewish ability. But as these
Jews were not ignorant people, they felt or possi
bly were fully aware of something much deeper :
this was that Holland in the Sixteenth Century
was fighting the battle of the world's civiliza
tion, being the self -chosen protagonist of the
Spirit of the Age. Anyhow these Jewish emi
grants, bearing in their souls the inheritance of
Semitic culture for 3000 years and more, from
old Egypt and Judea through Greece and Eome
and the Middle Ages, turned Northward from
that Mediterranean world in whose development
they had participated from its beginning, and

124 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

plunged into the very heart of the new epoch.
For it was in Holland at this time that the
scepter of power, both spiritual and material,
was seen passing from the South to the North,
from the Romanic to the Teutonic peoples.
Truly the movement of these Jews, be it sprung
of mere chance, or of some unfathomable
instinct peculiar to their race, seemed to be in
subtle correspondence with the movement of the
World's History, which had already started to
leave its old Mediterranean seats, and was cross
ing the Alps to ingraft itself upon a new stock of
human kind. The defeat of Spain by Holland,
and the Thirty Years' War gave to the Teutonic
peoples independence which afterwards ripened
into supremacy.

These thoughts we must bring before ourselves
if we would fully grasp the spiritual descent of
Spinoza. For in him must have lain by inherit
ance that long Jewish line of Mediterranean
culture, which we shall find deter mining his early
education, and which the Jewish colony of Am
sterdam kept alive and propagated in their
school.

Spinoza's father was a merchant and lived " in
a good house not far from the old Portuguese
Synagogue " (Colerus). He is declared to have
been of good family and of good education. He
sent his son to the Jewish school connected
with the Synagogue, giving to this son the same

SPINOZA. —LIFE. 125

mental and religious training which he and
his ancestors doubtless had received. Young
Spinoza first studied the Hebrew tongue and the
Hebrew Bible ; then came the long line of
Hebrew comments upon the Bible, especially the
Talmud and the Cabbala he made his own. The
Hebrew writers of the Middle Ages, such as Mai-
onides and Ibn-Ezra, he knew in part at least.
Also the Greco-Jewish literature he must have
worked at, though he claims not to have had a
critical knowledge of the Greek tongue in a pas
sage (Th. Pol. Treatise, c. 10) which sounds a
good deal like an excuse for not doing what he
did not want to do. Still Spinoza shows a
thoughtful study of the New Testament and he
cites the most famous Greco-Jewish writers of
antiquity, Josephus and Philo. The educated
Jews of the Spanish peninsula must have known,
something of the great Arabian philosophers,
their Semitic cousins, and Spinoza could hardly
help getting a notion of the Arabian philosophy,
though only by hearsay. In some such fashion
we may conceive the extent of Spinoza's Semitic
inheritance coming through many centuries, the
general nature of which we can trace in
numerous chapters of his Theologico-Political
Treatise.

His ability made him a marked pupil from the
beginning; he. was intended for Theology, says
Colerus, for a Rabbi or Teacher; doubtless the

126 MODE EN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

curse of his people against him was intensified
by the disappointment at losing their most prom
ising scholar. There are hints that at an early
age he began to ask hard questions of his
instructor, whose answers did not satisfy the
boy. It would have been strange if the Cartesian
spirit, rife at this time, of interrogating the
validity of all transmitted beliefs, had not crept
into the soul of the aspiring youth.

Nor should we fail to throw a glance into the
family circle of the boy and try to image what
was chiefly talked of there. The escape from
the Spanish Inquisition, tales of relatives who
perished by its torture, the many dangers of the
voyage to the new home — every man and
woman could tell some thrilling story of personal
experience which tested the spirit's mettle. Every
old Jew of the neighborhood could look back
upon deeds worthy of the hero, which he did
not fail to set forth to the younger generation
born in Holland. A general jubilation must
have been in that colony at the news of the
peace of Westphalia, in which Spain acknowl
edged the independence of the United Provinces
after a struggle of almost a century. Still there
must have been an underlying strain of love for
their old romantic home in the South where
their ancestors had lived so many generations.
As already said, the family language of the
Spinozas was Spanish, the tongue of their

SPINO ZA.—L IFE. 127

oppressors, and the same fact seems to have
been general.

Business relations, stirring events at home
and abroad, even boyish play upon the streets
must have at an early age brought Spinoza out
of his confined Jewish community into the great
world throbbing around him in Amsterdam,
which was then an important European center.
Indeed as there was no external repression the
Jewish exclusiveness would begin of itself to
relax. The new generation could not possibly
be held so rigidly to the old tenets, hence we
read of troubles in the Amsterdam Synagogue.
The young Jews never having experienced Span
ish oppression, would refuse to live so completely
in the past, but would give some response to the
call of the Spirit of the Time. The old set would
complain of the lack of respect for age and
authority on the part of the rising generation,
and would start a course of discipline more or
less severe to curb the headstrong youth. Do
we not see something of the same sort to-day
in America? To this party of young Jews
Spinoza belonged and was probably the leader.

After his school years — we can not tell the
exact time — a new element was introduced into
his life by the choice of a trade. "The Law
and the ancient Jewish Doctors do expressly say
that it is not enough for a man to be learned,
but that he ought besides to learn a profession

128 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

or mechanical art, that it may help him iu case
of necessity" (Colerus). Accordingly Spinoza
is to acquire a handicraft, which became a very
important thing in his future, for by it he was
to maintain himself in his independence of
thought in spite of all anathemas, and to live
his own life in freedom. But what handicraft
did he choose? One which brought him into
direct contact with the most recent movement of
Physics : the preparation of lenses for the tele
scope recently invented. It had been the true
means of bringing to view a new Heaven, quite
as much as the voyages of those times had
drawn the curtain from a new Earth. Galileo
had already discovered the satellites of Jupiter;
the most famous Dutch scientist, Christian Huy-
gens, born four years before Spinoza, had turned
his telescope upon Saturn, and in 1654 he dis
covered the rings of that planet. Spinoza knew
Huygens, and later they became competitors in
the art of polishing lenses (Spinoza's Letters,
XV, 1665). Everybody began looking up at
the skies through a telescope, which was
very serviceable to the navigator also. Still it
is a nightly amusement on the streets of the
great city for the passer to take a peep at the
moon. Spinoza, working at his lenses, had to
investigate the mathematical properties of light
which fact may well have had some influence
upon his purely philosophical studies. For light

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 129

seems to have a geometric soul in its movements,
as Spinoza's philosophy has a geometric soul
in its method. Thus his handicraft, going in
ward, found, or produced, its spiritual counter
part in his thought. At any rate, our worthy
Colerus (Spinoza's biographer), is right in say
ing that Spinoza, "finding himself more dis
posed to inquire into natural causes, gave over
Divinity and betook himself altogether to Natural
Philosophy." So our young Jew in the choice
of his calling did not follow the generality of
his countrymen in taking up with the past,
usually in the form of old clothes and old shoes,
but seized upon the very newest mechanical art,
and one which brought his daily task into line
with the latest discoveries in physical science.
No writings, however, he has left pertaining to
this practical field of his, except one small
treatise on the Rainbow.

Of course Spinoza did not necessarily confine
himself to the making of telescopic lenses. The
microscope also had been invented and was re
vealing its wonders. This instrument, it seems,
was a favorite with Spinoza, who «< observed
with a microscope the different parts of the
smallest insects, from whence he drew such con
sequences as seemed to him to agree best with his
discoveries." (Colerus.)

Into Spinoza's early life came another influence
of much more immediate importance than his

9

130 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

handicraft in separating him from his Jewish en
vironment. He became assistant teacher in the
private school of Francis van den Ende, who
was deeply imbued with the learning and the
skepticism of the Renascence, and was also de
voted to physical science. It was indeed a
school quite the opposite of that first school con
nected with the Synagogue. No theology of
any kind was here in evidence ; superstition was
mercilessly satirized, and superstition was quite
one with religion for van den Ende, who seems
to have had in his library the books of the lead
ing free-thinkers of Europe. Here was a mine
in which Spinoza delved for about two years
(1653-55). It was probably in this library
that Spinoza became acquainted with some of
the writings of Giordano Bruno, and deepened
his knowledge of Descartes by a study of the
printed books of this philosopher, whose influ
ence, however, he must have already felt, as it
was working profoundly in the thought of the
time. It is to be observed that Spinoza lived
in van den Ende's house, and so was separated
from his own family and the Jewish com
munity, being thereby able to give himself up
freely to his new studies. He perfected his
Latin style with van den Ende, who was a good
humanist; previously he had studied Latin with
a German teacher, but the bright boy must
have picked up during childhood many a frag-

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 131

ment of that tongue, which was so generally em
ployed in Holland by the learned, both Jewish and
Christian. Three important acquisitions may
be attributed to Spinoza's stay with van den
Ende: some teaching experience, a considerable
dip into the secular philosophy of the time, and
the mastery of a Latin style, which was to be
the medium of expression for all of his works,
being more nearly a mother-tongue to him than
any other language.

And in this record we must not omit to men
tion a fourth experience very natural to a young
fellow in the early twenties. Says our voucher,
the honest Colerus : " Van den Ende had an only
daughter who understood the Latin tongue as
well as music so perfectly that she was able to
teach her father's pupils in his absence. Spinoza,
having often occasion to see and speak to her,
grew in love with her, and he has often confessed
that he designed to marry her. She was none
of the most beautiful, but she had a great deal
of wit, a great capacity and a jovial humor,
which wrought upon the heart of Spinoza as
well as upon another scholar of van den Eude
whose name was Kerkering, a native of Hamburg.
The latter did soon perceive that he had a rival
and grew jealous of him. This moved him to
redouble his care and his attendance upon his
mistress, which he did with good success. But
a necklace of pearls of the value of two or three

132 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

hundred pistoles which he had before presented
to that young woman did without doubt con
tribute to win her affection. She therefore
promised to marry him, which she did faithfully
perform when Herr Kerkering had abjured the
Lutheran religion, which he professed, and em
braced the Roman Catholic." So Spinoza was
distanced by a rival who could buy a pearl
necklace and change his religion.

Such is the gleam of romance which seems to
enter Spinoza's life at this period, and which
Berthold Auerbach has wrought over in his novel,
Spinoza, a Thinker's Life. But a cruel investi
gator has shown that van den Ende's daughter,
Clara Maria, could have been hardly twelve
years old when Spinoza, being twice that age,
left Amsterdam on account of his excommunica
tion. What of it? The impossibility of the
affair does not follow. Then we can take the
suggestion of Pollock that Spinoza often visited
Amsterdam from his retreat and took occasion to
drop in upon the household of van den Ende ;
thus he could have an opportunity to talk Latin to
Clara Maria, and to admire her maturing woman
hood, for she did not get married till fifteen
years after Spinoza had left the city (accord
ing to the record consulted by Van Vloten, her
marriage took place in 1671). Some commen
tators on Spinoza claim to see traces of this un
fortunate love in his Ethics, and are inclined to

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 133

assign it as the reason why he never afterwards
married. But other grounds are more apparent.
No Jewess would be inclined to take a renegade,
and no Christian girl would be inclined to take a
Jew. Then the insidious disease of which Spi
noza died had begun to show its early traces, and
to a rational man like him forbade matrimony.
Besides was he not wedded to Philosophy, a very
jealous mistress brooking no rival?

We now come to the great act of separation
and expulsion of Spinoza from his kindred, his
race, and his religion Already we have noticed
the growing inner separation which made him
ready for the final blow, and which caused him
to say afterwards that his persecutors merely
anticipated his own action. It was observed that
he seldom attended the Synagogue, that he
shunned the society of the Jewish doctors, ap
parently avoiding discussion. Two former class
mates succeeded by an artifice in worming out of
him compromising opinions, and then played the
part of informers. There was a great stir,
Spinoza was cited before the court of the Syna
gogue, which laid upon him the lesser anathema,
demanding a recantation within thirty days.
But he refused to recant, he probably desired to
be cast out, which for him had become liberation.
To quiet the scandal it would seem that there was
an attempt to bribe Spinoza to silence, by the
offer of a pension of a thousand gulden, without

134 MODERN- E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the condition of recantation. . But this offer he
rejected with scorn, protesting that «' he was not
a hypocrite, and minded nothing but the Truth."
Evidently he had resolved upon authorship as his
highest vocation, and he did not propose to sell
out his career. After such contumacy came an
attempt to assassinate him. " Spinoza himself
did often tell them that one evening, as he was
coming out of the old Portuguese Synagogue, he
saw a man by him with a dagger in his hand ;
whereupon standing upon his guard and going
backward, he avoided the blow which reached no
further than his clothes " (Colerus reporting
Spinoza's conversation with the latter' s landlord
and landlady). Nor must we leave out this trait
of Spinoza himself :. " He kept still the coat that
was run through with the dagger, as a memorial
of that event." It is no wonder that he " did
not think himself safe at Amsterdam," and soon
left the city. Not simply out of terror did he
take this step, but " he was desirous to go on
with his studies in a quiet retreat."

Nothing was left in the opinion of the rab
binate but to excommunicate the refractory
member, and to pronounce upon him the grand
anathema. The latter was written out and read
before the congregation. The Portuguese origi
nal has been preserved and is a very important
document for estimating aright the character and
the work of Spinoza. It runs as follows : —

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 135

" With the judgment of the saints and angels
we excommunicate, cast off, curse and execrate
Baruch de Espinoza, with the consent of the
elders and of all this holy congregation, in the
presence of the Holy Books, cursing him with the
anathema wherewith Joshua cursed Jericho, and
Elisha cursed the boys, and with all the curses
written in the Law.

Cursed be he by day and cursed by night ;
cursed be he in sleeping and in waking, cursed in
his going out and coming in.

May the Lord never pardon him; may the
Lord make His fury and anger burn up the man ;
may the Lord separate him for evil from all the
tribes of Israel.

And you who cleave to the Lord your God:
let none of you speak with him by word of mouth
or by writing, let no one do him any kindness,
or stay under one roof with him, or come within
four cubits of him, nor read anything written by

him."

Such is the document of damnation, breathing
all the venom of the fiercest tribal revenge of the
Old Testament. We can now see from what
Spinoza was determined to separate himself.
Better than anything else does this piece of writ
ing show how impossible it was for him to stay
in a communion which kept alive and perpetuated
such a spirit. Out of this execration looms up
his character. Indeed we can see why he sought

136 MODERN' E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

to transform the old God of his fathers into an
ethical Deity. Motives for his future career and
doctrine may well be found in this Jewish curse
upon a Jevy who had defiantly broken over the
tribal limits into freedom, and had become in
thought a universal man.

What shall we say to the people who deliber
ately could utter and set down in writing such
anathemas against one of their own blood who
differed from them in religion? They were not
ignorant, they had suffered persecution, still they
could become as fierce persecutors as the Span
ish inquisition. There is no doubt that if they
had possessed the civil power, they would have
crucified Spinoza, as once Christ was crucified.
Moreover the report goes that they sought to get
a decree of banishment against Spinoza from the
Dutch authorities. The further question will
come up : Does this incident show a persistent
trait of Jewish character? Do they carry with
them wherever they go, in spite of culture and
the stern discipline of suffering, some of the old
tribal hate which is sure to beget hate? That
many individual Jews do not, is very manifest.
But the community, the nation? The philoso
pher, determined, if he be worthy of the name,
not to hate the Jew or anybody else, still has to
seek by virtue of his vocation the cause of the
animosity which the Jews as a body seem to ex
cite among all peoples where they settle. The

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 137

treatment of Spinoza, on account of the great
ness of the man, has risen to be a European
act, done in the presence of all time; it has
turned out to be a scene of the World's History
in which not only its few obscure participants
in Amsterdam, but their entire nation from the
beginning are called to the bar of judgment.
The greatest Jew that Europe has produced has
been cast out, cursed, and in spirit crucified by a
body of European Jews, apparently repeating
history.

One asks with interest : Did they ever after
wards show any signs of repentance or shame
for their action? In this connection the follow
ing extract from Colerus would seem to have
some meaning : —

"The sentence of excommunication was pub
licly pronounced by old man Chacharn Abuabh,
a Rabbi of great reputation among them. I
have desired in vain the sons of that old Rabbi
to communicate that sentence to me; they
answered that they could not find it among the
papers of their father, but I could easily perceive
that they had no mind to impart it to me."

Colerus published his biography of Spinoza in
1705 in Dutch, and the next year it appeared in
French. Thus the document was known to exist
long before it was published.

It was unquestionably the State which saved Spi
noza — a fact which impressed him strongly, and

1 38 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

which will enter deeply into his speculations here
after. It is quite possible that the Protestant
Church might have joined hands with the Syna
gogue in driving him out of the country. But
the civil authorities evidently would not disturb
him in his quiet retreat. This important fact
of his life will become one of his main doctrines,
and will generate the pivotal point upon which
turns one of his greatest books, the Theologico-
Political Treatise, of which an account will be
given later.

If Spinoza suffered the modern crucifixion at
the hands of the modern Jews, it must be con
fessed that his doctrine has been adopted and
cultivated by the Aryan, who has taken it up into
the movement of the Aryo-European Philoso
phy. To be sure, Spinoza has not been with
out his Jewish apostolate, but it is the Aryan
philosopher who has adopted him and given him
his place in the grand philosophic descent of the
Ages. Another Jew, or rather the other Jew of
History, has had a strikingly analogous destiny
as regards doctrine.

2. Second Period ( 1656-1670). Theresultof
the excommunication of Spinoza was his retire
ment from all public relations of life. He quit
Amsterdam and went to a country place not far
from the city and lived in the house of a friend
who belonged to a sect of Dutch dissenters called
Collegiants whose doctrines had been condemned

SPINOZA . — LIFE. 139

by the Synod of Dort. Thus the persecuted
Jew and the persecuted Protestant dwelt together
in the mutual sympathy of a common mis
fortune. Both were victims of organized Re-
lio-ion, but both were secretly tolerated by the
State. We shall find this fact coloring Spinoza's
life and writings : the political Institution is to
save man's freedom of thought from the fury of
the religious Institution. Particularly in the
Theologico- Political Treatise his pre-supposi-
tion is that any form of the religious Institution,
Synagogue, Mosque or Church, Protestant or
Catholic, though bitterly persecuted in its weak
ness, will turn persecutor when it gets the
power, and inflict the same wrong which it has
suffered. Spinoza's inference is that Religion
must be wholly separated from the civil govern
ment. In no sense does he propose to do away
with the religious Institution, but to assign to
Church and State their true limits in relation
to the individual. In such a thought we can
well understand that there was harmony between
Spinoza and his new environment of Collegian ts.
For fourteen years Spinoza remained in this
condition of retirement and separation from the
world, social and institutional. This does not
mean that he was in complete isolation, holding
himself aloof from friends and from all outsiders.
On the contrary he was quite accessible to the
few who might wish to visit him. Still his life

140 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

during this Second Period was that of the retired
student, even if not of a recluse. He turned
inward and wrought over his materials in solitude.
Eeally this was a great opportunity for making
out of himself a philosopher. We know very
little of his personal history during these four
teen years ; we know far more of his preceding
Period, which was largely enacted in the face of
the world. But now he withdraws from public
notice into himself, and there constructs a new
world of his own, in which act we can follow him
only in his books.

To grasp this Second Period in its full sweep,
it seems best to look at it in two successive por
tions or epochs, each of which lasted about seven
years. These we may name the Collegiant
Epoch and the Voorburg Epoch.

(1) Altogether Spinoza remained with his
Collegiant friends some seven years, and even
changed locality with them once, accompanying
them from their shelter near Amsterdam to
Rhynsburg, near Ley den. At the same time he
kept up his trade of polishing lenses, and became
a famous expert, so that Leibniz, investigating
certain optical problems, wrote to him (1671),
recognizing the optician but not the philosopher,
whom he will afterwards find and in his own
way appropriate.

We also hear of a class coming to him in his
retreat and studying Descartes under his guid-

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 141

ance. Already he had known something of
Descartes, whose spirit was in the atmosphere
of the place and of the time. He had doubtless
read the Discourse and the Meditations, essen
tially popular books. But he has now to grapple
with the Principia, a far more difficult as well
as more comprehensive work, which was then
making a great stir among the learned circles in
Holland. A small class of aspiring young men
came to him and asked him to assist them in
mastering the new philosophy. Spinoza had
already had some experience in teaching the im
mature pupils of a school in the common branches
of education, but now he has to instruct a class
of cultivated men in a system of thought. It is
evident that he must make special effort to ac
quire that system in order to give it out and to
explain it in detail. Thus Spinoza is brought in
his retreat to study Descartes very thoroughly,
and slowly to remodel the Cartesian principle
from his own point of view. Moreover the philo
sophical club becomes more or less a band of
disciples, and thus the School of Spinoza starts,
which is by no means dead to-day.

The literary result of this instruction is still
to be seen in Spinoza's Commentary on the
Principia of Descartes, furnished with an ap
pendix called Cogitata Metaphysica. This book,
printed in 1663, is expressly declared by Spinoza
(in Letter IX) to have been written and pub-

142 MODEEN E UEOPEAN PHIL OSOPHI .

lished at the request of friends who knew of it,
and who doubtless were members of the before-
mentioned philosophical club. It should be
noticed that these Cartesian studies were agree
able also to his Collegiant friends, who may have
shared in his instruction, and who were known
to lean toward Cartesianism (at this time like
wise under the ban of the dominant Theology,
which was Calvinistic) on account of its doctrine
of Free- Will. In the Appendix to his book
Spinoza supports this doctrine, probably repro
ducing it simply as the view of Descartes, and
possibly not forgetting that such a view was con
sonant with his Collegiant environment. This
fact may suggest the inner ground why Spinoza
at last came to feel that he must quit the Col-
legiants, for he was a determinist in his way
from the beginning.

To the Cartesian strand of Spinoza's life dur
ing these years we can now add another and quite
different one, which is found in a little book of
his not long since discovered and published, bear-
the title of a Short Treatise on God, Man, and
tJie latter' s Happiness. This book seems also to
have been the product of work with a class. It
shows the full sweep of Spinoza's plan, as it was
afterwards far more -fully developed in his Ethics,
Here, in fact, we find the Spinozan Norm of
Thought in its germ, this Norm more nearly
approaching the Neo-Platonic than any other.

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 143

And the Neo-Platonic Norm has had affinities
with Jewish thinking from the beginning. Cer
tain learned Jews of Alexandria, notably Philo,
maintained several doctrines which were after
wards taken up by the Neo-Platonic movement,
and this movement in turn strongly influenced
certain learned Jews of the Middle Ages — Mai-
monides, Gersonides, and Chasdai Crescas who
is cited by Spinoza in the Theologico- Political
Treatise. To these probably is to be added
Giordano Bruno, whose doctrine of the identity
of God and Nature is to be found in the two
dialogues which are included in the SJtort
Treatise. This book, however, shows Spinoza's
Jewish inheritance intermingling and coalescing
with Cartesian ideas, which it also contains in
abundance.

We can now see what lay before the mind of
Spinoza as his chief problem during these seven
years. The philosophic Norm transmitted to him
through the ages he was to fill anew and to
transform with a fresh content derived directly
from the fundamental thought of his time. Both
strands will remain in his work always visible,
often separable, and at bottom contradictory,
producing what we may well name the Spinozan
dualism, far deeper than any so-called Cartesian
dualism. For the transmitted Norm will furnish
chiefly the metaphysical portion of Spinoza's
system, and will remain largely true to its

144 MODERN- EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Neo-Platonic pantheistic pattern; but the psy
chological and with it the ethical portion, chiefly
derived from Descartes, will be individualistic
rather than pantheistic, and will run directly
counter to the previous metaphysical portion.
Here, then, lies the source of the Spinozan mo
nism, and far more profoundly, the source of the
Spinozan dualism, which last really classifies the
whole system as belonging to the second or sep
arative stage in the total philosophic movement
of the Seventeenth Century.

But the time has now arrived when he is to
give up his long domicile with the Collegiants.
The cause of this separation is not known, but
we can reasonably conjecture that Spinoza had
outgrown his environment and felt no longer in
harmony with its people either philosophically
or religiously. He had transcended their Carte-
sianism, and had come to hold a view very dif
ferent from theirs of God and the Divine Order.
He began to feel his freedom restrained (his
dear libertas philosphandi) , and moreover he
wished to publish some books which would
hardly accord with the principles of the Collegi
ants. One of these books was already finished
and waiting for its opportunity; others were
partly written. These unborn children of his
brain were lustily struggling for a chance to live ;
surely the hour has struck, he is up and off.

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 145

(2) So Spinoza removes in 1663 to Voorburg, a
village not far from The Hague, where he stays
the next seven years. Very little is known of
him during this time ; he continued his various
works, and began a new one, on The Improvement
of the Intellect, which seems to have been in
tended as an introduction to the Ethics. The
most significant fact about this work is that
it is a kind of psychological propaedeutic to phi
losophy; Spinoza proposes to examine the mind
itself before dealing with the metaphysical con
cepts which are the products of the mind. Of
course he did not and could not then carry out
any such plan; if he had been able to do so, his
Ethics would have been a part of his psychology,
instead of his psychology being a part of his
Ethics, as is the actual case. The introduction
is peculiar as showing Spinoza in a subjective
mood, during which he indulges in reflections
upon his past life and recounts his inner experi
ences and purposes somewhat after the manner
of Descartes. Such a personal overture corre
sponds, however, to the psychological content of
the treatise, which deals with the mind or Ego.

Obstacles long prevented the publication of
Spinoza's book which had been for some time
substantially completed. Finally at the very
close of the seven long Voorburg years of wait
ing, in 1670, The Theologico- Political Treatise
appears, without the author's name, giving on

10

146 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the title-page a fictitious publisher and a fictitious
place of publication. Spinoza seemed well aware
of the outcry which would be made against the
book, particularly by the clergy. At the same
time its doctrines seemed to have won for him
powerful political friends, who probably held
opinions similar to those of Spinoza in regard to
the relations of State and Church. At any rate
he must have felt that he had strong protection
before he made the next change, which was to
take up his permanent abode at The Hague, the
political center of the Dutch Republic. This
took place in 1670, and lasted about another
seven years, terminating in Spinoza's death.

3. Third Period (1670-1677). This Period,
though brief and incomplete, being cut short by
the early demise of the philosopher, deserves its
position through the fact that Spinoza now
comes out of his long retirement, and to a degree
shares in the institutional life of his country,
especially in its political phase. We are told
that already in 1665 his work on Ethics was
nearly complete ; we may suppose that he carried
the almost finished book with him to The
Hague. Doubtless it was his growing interest in
the State which first made him gravitate to
Voorburg, from which suburb to the capital was
but a step, which he could take when the time
was ripe .

In fact the Dutch Republic about the year

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 147

1670 was the center of the political problem of
Europe. It was still engaged in a desperate
struggle with England for maritime supremacy,
which brought about three different wars, the
last of which (1672-4) Spinoza saw while living
at The Hague. But the greatest conflict which
arose during this time was with the king of
France (Louis XIV) who sought to destroy Hol
land as the strongest foe of his political and
religious ideas, of Absolutism and of Catholi
cism. With a right instinct or perchance insight
Spinoza placed himself where the fate of Euro
pean liberty in that age was being decided.
Though not an actor, he was on the ground
looking and thinking.

The literary outcome of this Period is seen in
the work which is doubtless the last he ever
wrote, the Political Treatise. His thought has
now turned away from Religion and Metaphysics,
and is devoting itself to the State. We see at once
his views are directly connected with the Poli
tics of his time, even when he speaks no names.
The theory of Institutions, never wholly dormant
in his speculation, has now become the paramount,
if not the exclusive interest (see remarks on the
Political Treatise later, under the head of
Spinoza's Writings).

It was a great shock to him when the Dutch
statesmen, the brothers DeWitt, were murdered
by a mob in 1672. They had given him a small

148 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

pension, and had shown him friendship in various
ways. It is highly probable that it was their
influence which brought him to The Hague and
gave a political direction to his latest thinking.

But after their death he must have kept up his
relations to the people in authority, for we find
him engaged in what appears to be a political
mission. He went to the camp of the French
invaders of his country, then at Utrecht, in
order to see the Prince of Conde, the commander
of the enemy. But Spinoza did not get any
interview with the Prince, and returned home
where the populace began to suspect him of
being a spy. Spinoza's landlord became alarmed
lest a mob might attack his house, but Spinoza
4 'put him in heart again" by saying to him:
"Fear nothing, I can justify myself. There are
some of the most considerable persons in the
State who know what put me upon that journey.
As soon as the mob makes the least noise at
your door, I'll go and meet them, though they
were to treat me as they treated poor Messieurs
De Witt. I am a good KepubHcan, and I always
aimed at the glory and welfare of the State "
(Colerus). Such is the small and somewhat
uncertain gleam of Spinoza's only political per
formance.

In the year 1673 he received in his quiet re
treat at the Hague, where he lived in a rented
room and boarded himself, a remarkable offer

SPINOZA. — LIFE. 149

which showed his increasing fame. The Elector
Palatine asked him to become Professor at
the University of Heidelberg, cum amplissima
libertate philosophandi , though he must not
attack the established religion. The offer was
declined as Spinoza felt that any such position
would interfere with his freedom. It had been
his life to keep aloof from all sects, from all
patrons, from all great schools and universities,
in order that he might be free to utter the truth
as he saw it. He was right. In his little room
at Van der Spyck's, the Universe itself was his
and all that it contains ; in the considerable
University of Heidelberg he would have been
cramped to death by his environment.

During these seven years at The Hague Spi
noza was slowly dying of consumption. His con
stitution had never been strong, and he " had
been troubled with a Phthysic above twenty
years," says Colerus, drawing information from
those who knew him well. This signified much
in the career and thought of Spinoza. Since his
twenty-fourth year and earlier, hence during his
whole mature life an insidious disease kept gnaw
ing at his vitals, and being incurable, hung over
him like an inexorable Fate. This fact colors
his doctrine and his life. His strong belief in
necessity on the one hand, yet on the other
his triumph over outer destiny and his complete
self-mastery while in the very jaws of the fiend,

1 50 MODEEN E UR OPE AN PHIL OSOPHY.

were intensified, if not caused, by this desperate
struggle with a life-long malady.

The account of Spinoza's last moments are
given by Colerus in a quaint, yet deeply signifi
cant and pathetic way: "The landlord being
come from Church at four o'clock or thereabouts,
Spinoza went down stairs and had a pretty long
conversation with him, which did particularly
run upon the sermon; and having taken a pipe
of tobacco he retired into his chamber which was
forward, and went to bed betimes." Yet there
can be no doubt that Spinoza was very ill during
this talk, though he said nothing of himself, for
his conversation ran " upon the sermon." Still
he had sent for a physician from Amster
dam who was a special friend of his, Ludwig
Meyer by name, as if conscious of what
was approaching. " Upon Sunday morning
(the next day) before Church-time he
went down stairs again, and discoursed with
his landlord and his wife," apparently saying
not a word of his condition and showing no
sign, though he must have been then dying.
Meantime the physician had arrived, and he
" ordered them to boil an old cock immediately
that Spinoza might take some broth about noon,
which he did." In the afternoon the people of
the house returned to Church, while the physi
cian stayed alone with Spinoza. " But as they
were coming from Church, they were very much

SPIN OZA. — WEI TING S. 151

surprised to hear that Spinoza had expired about
three o'clock in the presence of that physician,
who that very evening returned to Amsterdam
by the night-boat." That surprise of the house
hold tells much of the perfect equanimity of
Spinoza gazing straight into the face of death ;
there could be no stronger evidence that he had
realized in his own spirit his doctrine.

Such was the transition into the Beyond of
the philosopher, the change usually so much
dreaded, but not at all dreaded by him. In that
humble house where he rented a room, in which
he wrote his books, polished his lenses, and even
boarded himself, was the final scene enacted
whereby he showed himself a free man, having
made real in the deed his own words : "Homo
liber de mdla re minus quam de morte cogitat,
et ejus sapientia non mortis sed vitce meditatio
est." (Etkica, Pars IV, Prop. 78.)

II. SPINOZA'S WHITINGS. — Latin was the lan
guage employed by Spinoza in communicating
his thought to the world. Many European
philosophers before him had used their mother
tongue for philosophy. But what was the
mother-tongue of Spinoza? It is not so easy to
say ; he seems to have employed with a fair de
gree of freedom Teutonic, Romanic and Semitic
speech, hovering between them all. In his
Jewish home the language was Spanish and in
the synagogue it was Portuguese ; after his ex-

152 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

pulsion he must have heard and talked chiefly
Dutch, though it is declared that he never
mastered it in a literary sense. In fact the
Dutch themselves have not produced any great
work of Literature in their tongue, they have no
Shakespeare or Dante, no Calderon or Camoens.
Probably the greatest literary Dutchman was
Grotius and he used Latin. The Renascence
developed marvelously the Romance languages
and literatures — Italian, Spanish, Portuguese,
French ; we must recollect that the English of
Chaucer, Shakespeare and Milton is largely a
Romance tongue. But Teutonic speech had to
wait for its literary bloom till Goethe and
Lessing. Thus the Dutch vernacular seems to
have been rejected by its own sons for the
highest literary expression. Spinoza did not try
to change this; though born in Holland, he was
in speech more Latin than Teutonic", and easily
went back to the parental source of his Spanish
or Portuguese. Moreover Philosophy still spoke
Latin throughout Europe, even in those
countries where Poetry had found its loftiest
expression in the vulgar tongue. German as the
vehicle of philosophic thought had not yet de
veloped its power. Among Latin- writing philos
ophers, Spinoza ranks easily alongside of the
two greatest — Cicero and Aquinas, and he is,
in certain respects, to be placed before both

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 153

these in the grand philosophic evolution of the
ages.

The Dutch were truly the foremost European
people in the Seventeenth Century, the bearers
of the world-historical destiny of Europe. But
they somehow gave no vernacular utterance of
their mighty task and its fulfillment in prose or
verse ; they produced no printed words reflecting
their heroic deeds and thrilling the civilized
nations of to-day. This is doubtless the reason
why their work has not been duly appreciated.
We have, therefore, to think that Teutonic
speech, in its Dutch and other varieties, was as
yet incapable of giving an adequate literary, still
less an adequate philosophical expression of the
age. From this point of view also, Spinoza
showed a right linguistic instinct by composing
his philosophy in Latin.

1. The Theologico-Political Treatise. The pres
ent work was written in Latin and published
in 1670, Spinoza being then 38 years old. More
over, this was the year in which Spinoza changed
his residence from Voorburg to The Hague, hav
ing resolved, apparently, to print and to propa
gate his philosophy after his long study and
retirement. His system was substantially com
plete at this date; his great central work, the
Ethics, WSLS also finished with the possible excep
tion of a few additions and interpolations, and
was to be published shortly after the present

154 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

book, which may well be deemed a kind of intro
duction to the whole Spinoza. Such we may
consider to be the opening of the third period of
his life.

Spinoza well foreknew the outcry which the
book would produce. Accordingly we read upon
the title-page of the first edition that it was
printed by Heinrich Kuherath of Hamburg,
whereas the real printer was Christopher Conrad,
of Amsterdam. The author's name was not
given. Soon the uproar started, the refutations
began pouring in, and the author duly anathe
matized. The Church, of course, took the alarm.
Jewish writers controverted it, the Protestant
States General of Holland prohibited it, Kome
placed it upon the Index, even the Cartesians
disclaimed and denounced it, though it was a
direct, legitimate fruit of the doctrine of their
master. What was the matter? No book could
create such -a universal shout of pain, if it did
not hit the sore spot of the age. The unanimity
of damnation from Jew and Gentile, Protestant
and Catholic, Church and State, could only mean
that all those affected with the malady of the
time, were undergoing a probing, painful, but in
the end salutary, to the very seat and source of
their disease. For like the individual, the age
gets angry at the man who tells to its face the
truth about itself. In times past this wrath has
often found expression in torture, burning at the

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS 155

stake, and crucifixion. If we now read the
Theologico-Political Treatise we cannot find much
sulphur in it ; we have to throw ourselves back
into Spinoza's time and spiritual environment in
order to understand the tempest it produced on
all sides of the horizon.

Already the age was in a deep struggle with
its presuppositions, philosophical, religious, and
political. The center of this struggle was un
doubtedly Holland, the land where Thought had
won its greatest freedom, both in Church and
State. Holland, then, was questioning all that
had been hitherto taken for granted in profound
correspondence with her movement for inner and
outer liberty. Still there was a strong party in
reaction, hesitating, refusing, resisting. But,
moved largely by Descartes, whose thought-life
belonged to Holland, the leading spirits of that
country had learned to doubt, to grapple with
their presuppositions, particularly in philosophy,
above any other land of Europe. Yet this was not
done without many a protest from more conser-
vating minds who dimly foresaw and shuddered
at the Heaven-scaling step to which such a
principle was driving forward the time.

Into this mightily fermenting period enters the
Amsterdam Jew with his book. Of all his con
temporaries he is the most apt pupil of Des
cartes, having pushed the hitter's doctrine far
beyond its original limits, and applied it in a

156 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

sphere and in a way that would have made the
old master shake in terror with his careful,
politic adjustment to the existent order in
Church and State. For Spinoza in his quiet
study has come to the conclusion, that in this
general overhauling of all transmitted opinions
and beliefs, the grand presupposition of the
civilization of Europe, the Bible both Hebrew
and Christian, is to be summoned before this
new tribunal of Reason and made to give an ac
count of itself. Is not this Bible with its
doctrines and ceremonies the chief assumption
of the world around me? If all is to be interro
gated afresh (de omnibus dubitandum) as the
indispensable prerequisite for the coming order,
why make an exception of the fundamental
thing? Colossal audacity is this, truly Jewish,
not to be expected of any European ; only can it
be paralleled by the audacity of another Jew,
Christ himself, who also challenged the faith of
his fathers and introduced the new dispensation.
So Spinoza goes back sixteen centuries to the
Christian beginning, and then back another six
teen centuries (or more) to the Hebrew begin
ning, and along the whole line he drags out all
the presuppositions of Monotheism itself and
brings them before the judgment-seat of his indi
vidual Reason. For Spinoza likewise challenges
the one only God, the common presupposition of
both Jew and Christian, investigating sharply

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 157

the revelation He has made of Himself in the
transmitted Holy Books of His people. It
would seem that according to Spinoza, God too
needs reconstruction and must be made rational
in accord with the Spirit of the Age.

We may now see why it came that a Jew was
chosen to do such a »work, namely to take the
next great step in philosophy. Many writers
have felt the profound correspondence of Spinoza
with his call, which was at that time the call of
Europe. The cry is for a man who can go back,
and as it were in his own blood can find and dig
out the religious presuppositions of European
civilization. At the same time he must be
modern, the most modern of men, filled with
the new thought of his epoch. Again the Aryan
consciousness, unable to find itself spiritually,
is to be passed through a Jewish mind, as was
the case in Christianity, This means not the
overthrow of the Bible, but a new knowledge of
it, which is still working deeply in Theology.
The so-called higher criticism of to-day goes
back to this work of Spinoza. Thus the Holy
Book of the Ages shows a power of self -renewal
down Time, having revealed such a character
through the three greatest Jews — Moses, Christ
and Spinoza. Such new birth seems to come to
it only through a Jewish mind ; only a Jew can
successfully grapple with the Jewish Jehovah,
and make Him transform Himself. The primi-

158 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

tive tribal God of the Hebrews can become uni
versal only through a man of the same tribe who
has become universal himself.

The reader may now understand the loud
uproar as well as the fierce persecution which
greeted this book at its birth and has followed it
down to the present. In the foregoing fact also
we begin to see the vast significance of Spinoza
as an historic link in the coming ages, for the
battle which he so emphatically opened is by no
means over yet.

The Theologico-Political Treatise is not an
organic book with its parts carefully ordered into
a systematic Whole. It is rather a series of
essays loosely connected pertaining to Theology
and the State; the title of the edition of 1670,
printed during Spinoza's lifetime and probably
emanating from him, calls it a Treatise *« con
taining several dissertations " (continens aliquot
dissertationes — see Pollock's Spinoza, Introd. , p.
XVI). It may be considered a kind of framework
into which he arranged his thoughts on the pre
ceding topics for a long time, probably for twenty
years (1650-1670). We have here echoes of
the studies of the youthful Spinoza, while
still a student at the school of the Synagogue ;
we can well imagine the precocious genius of
seventeen or eighteen summers with the blood of
the South hot in his veins, propounding hard
problems to his teacher in the Hebrew Bible.

SPINOZA. — WETTINGS. 159

Moreover such a youth living in the great active
city of Amsterdam would unconsciously imbibe
something of the spirit of the time, which was
already taking a decided Cartesian trend. The
Principles of Descartes had been printed in
Latin at Amsterdam in 1644, and his earlier
works had created a great stir. To our mind
the Jewish boy could hardly help catching some
what of the spirit of inquiry then abroad in a
free land, and engrafting it upon his Hebrew
studies. At first it was only a germ, but the
germ grew to an unshaken conviction, which
finally caused his expulsion from the Synagogue
when he was twenty-three years old.

We hold that the Treatise under consideration
contains, particularly in some of its earlier por
tions, the substance of the thought and of the
discussions which led to Spinoza's separation
from his religion and his people. It was most
natural that he should put down in writing such
a fearful personal experience, really his re-birth
into a new world. But as time ran on and as he
was absent from the scene of his troubles, other
interests began to come predominantly into his
life. His purely speculative studies undoubtedly
stood first, but not far behind was his interest in
the State. For after all it was the State which
had saved him through its toleration. This fact
took strong hold of him, and so another element
was introduced into his book, which he desig-

160 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

nates as theologico-politicus on its title-page, and
in which he seeks to show that Free Thought
(libertas philosophandi) will not only not endan
ger but will benefit the Republic.

Accordingly we find two portions, whose divid
ing line is plainly marked (at Chap. 16). Of
these the first portion treats of Religion, and
embraces three-fourths of the whole work, while
the second portion treats of the State, which
takes up the remaining fourth. The latter seems
considerably later in composition than the
former, and shows a new object of interest. It
has a double character : though the Hebrew State
still furnishes examples for illustrating principles,
it is plain that the Dutch State is always in the
background of the author's thought, and is some
times cited in its own name.

We may, therefore, say that the present
Treatise shows the religious and political develop
ment of Spinoza for some twenty years, but not
directly his philosophical development which was
going on at the same time in another line of
works. It is a very striking evolution of a great
soul in spite of its inconsistencies and incongru
ities. Particularly we may trace in this book
Spinoza's evolution of God who in the earlier pas
sages is still the transcendent Hebrew Jehovah,
but in the later passages decidedly approaches
the immanent God of Nature, such as we find in
the Ethics. Still the work is Jewish from first

SPINOZA. — WHITINGS. 161

to last; Jewish in its affirmation and in its nega
tion; when he denies, he is still a Jew denying
Judaism. Christ and the Apostles he puts on a
line of development with Moses and the Prophets.
That he is the third in this great line of Jewish
Revelation, he does not directly say, at "least ho
does not emphasize any such idea. Still he seems
at times somewhat conscious of such a mission,
that of uttering the Jew of Europe.

Into this vast biblical reconstruction inter
weaves the doctrine of Descartes as a trans
forming power. The enthronement of Reason
with its clear and distinct ideas is everywhere
taken for granted, and means the summoning

of the Universe before the bar of the E»o,

& '

though Descartes does not seem to have intended
any such universal application of his doctrine.
Descartes doubted the truth of the transmitted
Philosophy, but Spinoza dared doubt the truth
of the transmitted Religion and its Bible, yea of
the transmitted God. This is his tremendous
significance; he makes universal the Cartesian
starting-point; that is his genius — universality.
But his effort is not merely destructive; it is
also reconstructive; he too might answer his
antagonists: "I come not to destroy but to
fulfill."

In general, the Theologico- Political Treatise
springs from Spinoza's grand separation from
his religion and his race and his race's God.

11

1G2 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Hence its underlying character must be pro
nounced separative. It shows three great
separations : —

1. The Individual with his Reason, self-deter
mined in Thought, must be allowed freedom of
Thought and Speech in matters of Religion.
Reason is not to be accommodated to Scripture,
and hence may be unscriptural. On the other
hand Scripture is not to be accommodated to
Reason, but is self-determined in its sphere (is
to be interpreted through itself). Neither is to
force the other into conformity with itself in
Thought.

2. The Individual with his Reason is to be
allowed Free Thought in political matters, also.
Yet he is to obey in his action the commands of
the State as authoritative, which on its side is
also self-determined. Neither is to force the
other into conformity with its sphere; the indi
vidual is not to assail the State's law, and the
State is not to assail the individual's Thought
even in its expression. So the separation is
complete as to Intellect but not as to Will; the
latter remains for the future problem.

3. These two Institutions, the religious and
the political, Spinoza will now separate from
each other, after having separated himself as
Reason or Thought, from both of them. The
State is not to prescribe Religion and Religion is
not to determine the State. This is a great

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 163

idea, one in which Spinoza reaches not only out
of his own time but out of Europe. The com
plete separation of Church and State has not yet
been attained even in the most tolerant and
enlightened European nations. Only in America
has such a separation been attained. Spinoza
may well seem the prediction of that provision
in the Constitution of the United States, which
says: " Congress shall make no law respecting
an establishment of religion or prohibiting the
free exercise thereof." This is still distinctive
to America, though France is now (1903)
striving for its attainment. The other conten
tion of Spinoza in the present connection, free
dom of Thought and Speech, is European, yet
with emphatic exceptions.

Such are the three great separations in this
Treatise : as thinking individual, the man is to
be free of the domination of both Church and
State, and each of these is to be free of the
domination of the other. The Church has its
sphere in teaching and enforcing justice and
charity; the State has its sphere in securing
man's rights; the individual in outer conduct is
determined by both according to their ends, but
in thought and speech he is self-determined, free
of both Church and State.

There is no doubt that such an outcome leaves
the individual in a deep dualism, that between
Thought and Action, Intellect and Will. Thus

164 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

in Spinoza the speculative and practical sides of
human Spirit remain in contradiction which is
bound to show itself in the shrillest sort of
discord hereafter.

The conclusion of the Treatise gives Spinoza's
attitude : * ' I have written nothing which I do not
most willingly submit to the judgment of my
country's rulers. For if they think that any
thing I have said is hostile to the laws of the
land or to the common welfare, I shall retract
it. I have taken care first of all that whatever I
might write should conform to patriotism, religion
and good morals.'' These, however, do not con
flict with, but are furthered by Free Thought
and Free Speech in a State which allows men
" to think as as they please and to say what they
think." (Compare Descartes' submission "to
the authority of the Catholic Church " at the end
of his Principia.)

2. The Political Treatise. The reader will be
at once struck with this title, similar to yet dif
ferent from the preceding one. What is indi
cated by the change is true : Spinoza has quite
thrown off the theological element in the present
book which sets forth the purely secular State,
freed from its connection with religion. The old
Hebrew theocratic substrate lay deep in the pre
vious Treatise, as its double title suggests. But
now the State is looked at as it is in itself, in its
own ris;ht, as a distinctive institution ; the point

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 165

of view is more Greek than Hebrew, and indicates
a significant new stage in the development of
Spinoza.

The Political Treatise was one of those books
which were not printed during the author's
life, but which first appeared in the Opera Post-
huma, dated Amsterdam, 1677, the year of
Spinoza's death. It is generally considered his
last work, though the exact time of its composi
tion cannot be ascertained.

It is our opinion that it must have been writ
ten chiefly after 1672, the year of the overthrow
and death of Jan DeWitt, who had held the
chief authority in Holland since the death of
William II. of Orange in 1650. Spiuoza seems
to have been a personal acquaintance and possi
bly a close friend of De Witt ; he certainly sym
pathized with the latter's party in its opposition
to the House of Orange. This party was really
a moneyed aristocracy, composed of the rich
burghers of Holland, especially of Amsterdam,
though it called itself republican in contrast
with the monarchical tendency of the party of
the Stadtholder, who was the Prince of Orange.

This conflict between monarchy and aristoc
racy gives the real germ out of which the Polit
ical Treatise of Spinoza unfolds itself. We see
that it was not merely the ideal projection of the
secluded philosopher, though it be that too ;
along with its speculative side turned toward the

1 66 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

upper world, it had also an actual practical side
turned toward the lower world. The book, in
spite of its impartial and impersonal manner,
springs out of the time and circumstances of its
author, who shows a deep, warm interest in what
was going on in his party and in his country.
Fervid heart-beats both of sympathy and antag
onism the attentive reader will feel here and
there breaking up through the impassive exterior
of the philosopher in spite of his strong self-
suppression.

Spinoza then favored the Aristocracy of wealthy
citizenship, against the Monarch above and the
People below. One might think at the first
glance that this runs counter to Spinoza's Philos
ophy, to his God who seems such an all-devour
ing absolutist. But the fact is that the monar-

o

chical principle of the Stadtholder had more
popular elements than the close aristocracy of
the Dutch merchants. Hence the people even
of Amsterdam sided with William III of Orange
(later the king of England) in the grand crisis
of the struggle with France under Louis XIV,
who deemed it necessary to crush Holland in
taking his first step toward universal domination.
The horrible death of the two De Witts (Jan and
Cornelius) at the hands of a mob in 1672 was
substantially the end of the rule of the aristo
cratic (republican) party, and was followed by
the complete supremacy of the Stadtholder and

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 167

his party. These two facts, the fall of the Aris
tocracy and the rise of the Monarchy, are the
central principle and the creative cause of the
present Treatise.

We may consider the first and most external
point as showing the interest of Spinoza : nearly
one-half of the book is devoted to the discussion
of Aristocracy, which has a fullness of detail and
a certain emphasis and sometimes warmth of style
found in no other portions of the work. His
short chapter on Democracy (the last) has more
in it about Aristocracy than about Democracy,
in which he could have no local interest, as it
did not in its pure form exist in Holland. Upon
Monarchy, however, he has somewhat to say,
both for and against. He shows heat against
dictatorships (Chap. 10) in passages which un
doubtedly have the Prince of Orange in mind,
who was substantially dictator of the inner revo
lution of 1672, which upheld the war with France.
And it was well that he was, we have now to
say, looking back at these events through the
lapse of time. In this respect Spinoza was not
the voice of the Ages, though in other respects he
certainly was. He traces the cause of the de
struction of the Koinan State to the fact that
everybody in a time of terror from enemies
" turns toward the man who is renowned for his
victories and sets him free of the laws, thereby
establishing the worst of precedents . " So Spinoza

168 MODERN E UE OPE AN PHIL OSOPH Y.

saw «* the death of liberty " in the stadtholder-
ship of the Prince of Orange, hitting him not
directly, but through a Roman example.

Thus we get to see underneath the surface
to the real cause and purpose of the present
work. But when it comes to his own party,
Spinoza does not lack criticism. He complains
that the men in authority have neglected their
duty, handing over the business to secretaries
and other officials who have thereby become the
real authority in the State: *' Which thing has
been fatal to the Dutch." But his most important
criticism of his own party is (IX, 14) where he
declares that " the Dutch thought that to keep
their liberty, they had only to get rid of their
Count " (or Stadtholder), which is evidently an
allusion to the suspension of the office of Stadt
holder after the death of William II, and the
accession to supreme power of the grand pen
sioner, Jan DeWitt. " Still they (the Dutch)
never thought of remoulding the body of their
government," but they left it organized just as it
was, namely on a monarchical principle, yet
without a true head, so that " most of the sub
jects never knew where lay the authority of. the
Government." And so the conclusion is plain
that " the overthrow of said republic has arisen
from its misforrned condition and the fewness of
its rulers." Both these evils Spinoza will cor
rect by a reform of the aristocratic principle

SPINOZA. — WETTINGS. 169

which he unfolds in the present book. Hence
he puts so much stress upon making the govern
ing class a large one, and upon preventing its
diminution. Also he will reconstruct the con
stitution, making it aristocratic through and
through, according to the principle of such a
government.

Thus Spinoza, in spite of his protest to the
contrary (see his Introduction) is building, after
the fashion of Plato and Aristotle and Sir
Thomas More and others of less note, an ideal
Republic. The reality has turned out inadequate,
so the thinker will excogitate a new scheme of
Government, which is the old form remodeled
and relieved of its defects, so that there will
arise in the present case a true consistent Aris
tocracy. In like manner, Aristotle in ancient
Hellas sought to set forth a reconstruction of
the Greek City-State which was in his time
declining. The same purpose runs through
Plato's Republic, though in many respects it is
very different from Aristotle's Politics. But
both have at bottom the one object, the rehabil
itation of the Greek City- State and the restora
tion of it to its pristine glory.

To make the comparison more complete, Aris
totle did not see, though he was the friend and
teacher of Alexander the Great, that the latter
with his Empire had introduced a new political
principle into the World's History, in presence

170 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of which- the old City-State could not exist, in
deed had no right to exist. Similar to the
ancient philosopher was our modern philosopher,
who likewise did not see that the close, moneyed
Aristocracy of his native Amsterdam, in whose
profits his Jewish compatriots had a good share,
had departed forever with the death of Jan
De Witt, being wholly unequal to meet the great
coming crisis, which demanded a strong central
authority. Upon Holland had been laid the
burden of defending freedom and civilization in
the Seventeenth Century; to the calculation of
timid capitalists such a work could not be sub
jected. Money is not to rule, but to be ruled in
the mighty national emergency. Spinoza, there
fore, did not see the bearing of the events hap
pening around him ; he was the opponent of the
House of Orange, which had to face the hardest
problems of the World's History, not to be
solved from the standpoint of the Amsterdam
Bourse. The greatness of William of Orange is
that he first conquered Dutch capital, and then
by means of it went forth to conquer French
armies. At that moment Holland under his
guidance was the bearer and executor of the
decree of the World's Spirit against the new
threat of Latin imperialism, quite as decisively
as was Athens, when her citizens marched out
to Marathon against Oriental imperialism. And
in the present contest the House of Orange beat

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 171

back France, as in the preceding struggle lasting
eighty years it had beaten back Spain and left
it to sink down into insignificance under its own
self -torturing Inquisition. After these two
supreme acts, altogether the greatest of their
time on the stage of Universal History, Hol
land's work was done; her political, maritime,
and commercial supremacy passed to England
and her learning and science, after a century's
lapse, found a new life in Germany. And the
House of Orange after giving to its country, not
the most capable single ruler, but the most
capable line of rulers for one hundred and fifty
years that Europe has seen, lost its power of
transmitting its greatness and vanished from
the scene.

Our philosopher, then, though placed in the
very heart of the World's History, in the midst
of the time's two contending principles, did not
see their significance. What contemporary does
even to-day? Indeed, we may say that the great
but far-off end of education is to train man,
every man, to read not merely books, but the
purposes and decrees of the World-Spirit in the
events taking place in his environing world.
That is yet to become a science taught in the
School — a science which, we see, the greatest
philosophers did not know. Hence it comes
that Spinoza is such an interesting figure as we
watch him in this last book of his, seeking to

1 72 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

conceal with an imperturbable mien what he
nevertheless reveals surging so intensely and so
deeply through his personal experience. It was
doubtless written at The Hague, where Spinoza
stayed the last seven years of his life (1670-77)
amid the political throbbings of the period.

Having thus noted that this Treatise has

&

emphatically its roots in its own age, we may
next inquire what thinkers of the past furnished
help to Spinoza. We have no doubt of the
decided influence of Aristotle's Politics.
Whether this influence came directly from the
original text of Aristotle which Spinoza could'
read, or through the medium of the Schoolmen,
is a mooted point ; there is no reason why he
might not have employed both ways. His
opening thrust against the making of ideal com
monwealths, and his final construction of such a
commonwealth himself is in profound corre
spondence with the movement of Aristotle's
book. The threefold division of the forms of
Government (Monarchy, Aristocracy, and De
mocracy), and the further subdivision of each
of these into the good and bad sorts, is Aristote
lian. Both the philosophers ( as above remarked)
show a common underlying spirit and purpose in
seeking to reconstruct in thought and by means
of reforms, to re-establish a decadent and indeed
transcended form of Government; such a
motive, however, is usually found in every con-

I

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 173

struction of an ideal State or Society. Other
points of connection might be noticed, but the
greatest inheritance corning down to Spinoza
from Aristotle, doubtless both directly and indi
rectly, is the philosophic Norm — Metaphysics,
Physics and Ethics — whereof we shall speak
more fully in another place.

Many other connecting links with writers past
and present can be traced in Spinoza's book,
showing its spiritual descent in time. He advo
cates the State's ownership of all the land for
his Monarchy though not for his Aristocracy,
wherein may lie a reminiscence of Plato or of
Sir Thomas More, with their thoroughgoing
communism. Ideas may be pointed out which
he holds along with the great publicists of his
age — Bodiii, Albericus Gentilis, and also Hugo
Grotius, his distinguished countryman. Ma-
chiavelli'sPn'ftce suggests to him what is really the
deepest spiritual conflict in his book, the conflict
between the moral and the institutional. His
indebtedness to the contemporary English philoso
pher Hobbes has been much insisted upon by some
writers, but it is superficial. The purpose of the
Leviathin of Hobbes was to ground the absolute
Monarchy, which was certainly distasteful to
Spinoza whose party sought to set aside even the
limited Monarch in the Stadtholder. On meta
physical points we may indeed find coincidences,
most of which, however, were the common prop-

174 MODERN- EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

erty of the time's thought, and were hardly
copied by Spinoza out of Hobbes. Yet even
in this field he distinctly declared in a letter
(No. 50) his fundamental difference from
Hobbes inasmuch " as I always preserve natural
right intact," allotting to the magistrates only
so much right over the individual as they have
of actual power.

But the chief fountain of modern political
science both in theory and practice, the English
Constitution, seems to have been unknown to
Spinoza. Here again he cannot be blamed. The
Great Civil War of England which Spinoza wit
nessed from a distance, had obscured and tempo
rarily sullied the English Constitutional develop
ment which did not come out from its partial
eclipse into full splendor till the revolution of
1688, eleven years after Spinoza's death. That
event also had to vindicate itself by time. It was
largely through Montesquieu in his Esprit des
Lois (appeared in 1748) that Europe became
informed of the character of the English Con
stitution. It is probable that Spinoza had no
great love for the English. During his whole
life there was the bitter rivalry for maritime
supremacy between England and Holland, which
repeatedly culminated in war. During the time
he was writing this Political Treatise England
was aiding France in her assault upon Holland,
though the latter was fighting the battle for the

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 175

civil and religious liberty of Europe against the
French absolutist Louis XIV. Representative
government, the most distinctive trait of the
English Constitution, seems to be hardly known
to Spinoza. His political contrivances do not em
brace representation of the People, the mightiest
fact of the modern State which is still devel
oping in that direction.

Another query-provoking characteristic of the
present Treatise is that the author now drops his
geometric method, to which he had so strictly
adhered in his Ethics. What is the reason?
He may have intended this book for a more
general circle of readers, he may have grown
weary of the rigid formalism of his previous
work, or he may have even become doubtful of
its validity. Really, however, we may see that
this change of expression lies in the change of
the subject. Spinoza starts his Ethics with the
conception of God, who is, indeed, the beginning
and end of the whole book. Now Descartes had
already taught in substance that God's thought
is mathematical, and that the expression of the
thought of God in philosophy must show the
same certainty and necessity as mathematics.
So Spinoza applies the geometric method to his
Ethics, in true accord with its divine theme.
But he proposes at the start to treat political
science empirically, humanly, and hence he feels
under no constraint to make it speak as God

176 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

speaks but rather as man speakso For which
change of method the reader, being human, is
thankful.

Moreover we may connect this change of pro
cedure with another fact which goes to the
bottom of Spinoza's entire philosophy : the as
cending or ethical movement of his thought in
contrast with its descending or metaphysical
movement. Thus the present treatise would
show correspondence with the second phase of
the grand Spinozan dualism which starts with
the individual (or mode) and ascends to Sub
stance or God. If this be his last book, it shows
that he was evolving out of the stage of Sub
stance, and putting stress upon its opposite or
the Individual. In fact, the theory of the State
is a constituent part of Ethics, belonging to the in
stitutional element thereof. It is true that Spinoza
never brought the State into a complete organic
relation with his total sj7stem, though he was
certainly working upon this subject at the time
of his death.

The next book of Spinoza which we shall men
tion is that which goes by the name of Ethics,
though it has both sides — metaphysical and
ethical — not by any means reconciled but rather
in opposition. The Political Treatise just con
sidered belongs to one side, or rather to one
portion of one side, and hence is of limited con
tent and also is unfinished. But the Ethics is

SPINOZA. — WAITINGS. 177

the universal book of Spinoza, into which and
from which all his other writings may be seen
to proceed.

3. The Ethics. This is not only the most
important work of Spinoza but is to be regarded
as one of the great philosophical books of the
world, ranking with Aristotle's Metaphysics and
Kant's Critique of Pare Reason. Such is the
place to which it has been slowly assigned by the
judgment of two centuries and more.

It first appeared in the Opera Posthuma of
Spinoza (Amsterdam, 1677). To our mind it is
not a thoroughly digested, consecutively organ
ized book; it shows gaps, overlappings, contra
dictions, in fact the supreme contradiction
between his metaphysical and his ethical views.
This is the line upon which we would divide
it into two large portions. The first portion
embracing in the main Parts I and II, is essen
tially metaphysical ; the second portion embrac
ing Parts III, IV and V, is on the whole ethical.

These two portions, as we shall endeavor to
show later, are just opposite in tendency, and
strikingly reveal the Spinozan dualism. It is
highly probable that each belongs to a different
period in the author's career. The fact is well
known that he was writing upon the Ethics for
many years, and was at least twice on the point
of publishing it, when some unfavorable occur
rence prevented. A careful genetic exposition

12

178 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of the ItJtkics would show that it was a growth,
and quite a long one. The general scheme of
the book is a sweep from Substance down to
Mode (as self-conscious Ego), then a sweep
back again from Mode to Substance or God.
This scheme has a general resemblance to theNeo-
Platonic (see Plotinus in Ancient European
Philosophy, p. 614-6), which doubtless came to
Spinoza through the medieval Jewish philoso
phers. But the content of the scheme unfolds
chiefly out of Cartesian doctrines, in whose
atmosphere Spinoza lived, wrought and thought.

(a) Taking the first or metaphysical portion
by itself (first two Parts), we observe that the
author begins with Substance, the One, God,
and moves from it through Attribute down to
Mode. This we call the descent, since we pass
from the substantial to the insubstantial, to the
vanishing, to the appearance.

Still Spinoza has a good deal to say of the
Mode, which appears in the form of the individ
ual — the material object, the human body and
its soul. Properly speaking, these themes belong
to Physics, but with Spinoza they are hardly
more than a development out of his Metaphysics.
It is in the middle of his Second Part that he
makes the grand turn to the self-conscious act,
or "the idea of mind " (II. 20, 21), though in
connection with the body. But in the Third
Part he begins to treat of the Emotions, and

SPINOZA.— WRITINGS. 179

thus to give some validity to the human individ
ual, to whose psychical life the Emotions belong.

(b) Distinctively with the Third Part the
ascent starts, and continues, with some rever
sions, to the end of the work. Already we have
noticed the self-conscious act or the turn of the
mind upon itself. A more general assertion of
individuality is the following: " Each thing, in
so far as it is in itself, endeavors to persevere
in its own being (in suo esse perseverare con-
atur"III. 6). Thus the Mode begins to assert
itself, "to perservere in its own being" —not
merely the self-knowing mind, but each partic
ular thing of Nature.

In our special exposition we shall unfold quite
fully these two main portions of Spinoza's book
on Ethics. There we shall try to show the
philosophical Norm underlying it and controlling
it, through which Norm it becomes truly a Phi
losophy. Specially just this dual character of
the Ethics gives Spinoza his distinctive place in
the history of the world's thought, and also ranks
him in the philosophical movement of the Seven
teenth Century.

The chief contents of the Ethics are discussed
and ordered in our succeeding section on the
Philosopy of Spinoza, to which we refer the
reader for further details about this book.

4. Minor Writings. Several of the earlier works
of Spinoza have been preserved which show the

180 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

development of his system, particularly as it
appears in the Ethics. These works also give
us a glimpse of Spinoza's studies of preceding
lines of thought.

(1) In the first rank must be placed A Brief
Treatise on God, Man and the latter' s Happiness,
first published in 1862 in a Dutch translation of
the original Latin which has been lost. This little
book was probably written some time after Spi
noza had retired from Amsterdam in 1656, that
it might serve as a kind of manual for his friends
and followers. It was not published but quietly
parsed around in manuscript copies of which two
have been preserved in the Dutch language.
This fact shows that Spinoza had already his
disciples and was forming them into a kind of
School, which doubtless met secretly in his
abode and received lessons from him in his phi
losophy, which the present work shows to be
decidedly in the process of growth. In fact it
may be regard as the author's first sketch of his
Ethics, showing the same in its bud, undevel
oped, yet the whole coming flower.

The most striking point about this book is that
it has essentially the same general movement
and total organic structure as the Ethics. First
it treats of God with whom is joined Nature.
Then it passes to man and considers his mind,
the kinds of knowing and the passions, till it
reaches Happiness and Freedom. The title

SPINOZA.— WRITINGS. 181

itself suggests the general sweep of the Ethics,
which also treats of God, Man, the latter's Hap
piness (or Blessedness). Such is the interesting
fact: the germinal Norm of Spinoza's greatest
and most mature book must have been present
to his mind at the age of 24 or thereabouts. To
be sure the work is unripe, undeveloped, man
ifesting a struggle both for thought and ex
pression. Yet herein it has an advantage : it
is free of the formal, cramped, geometric method
of the Ethics; it has the fresh, keen, dialectical
utterance of the young thinker, even if he some
times cuts himself to pieces with his own acute-
ness.

Besides the general sweep of the Whole, we
are surprised at the many points of agreement in
details between the two books (it and the
Ethics.) Here are Substance, Attribute and
Mode, in their line of descent, yet all of them
not yet unfolded to what they are in the Ethics.
For instance, God is first and before Substance
in the Brief Treatise ; while Substance is first
and before God in the Ethics. This example indi
cates Spinoza's transition from Theology to
Philosophy in his two highest categories. The
ethical return to God through love, which is also
the highest knowledge, is likewise indicated,
though not so fully unfolded as in the Ethics.
Moreover the union with God through love and
the highest knowledge (here the fourth kind) is

182 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

immediate, and becomes a sort of Plotinian
ecstasy. At this point enters a mystical element
into the philosophy of Spinoza, and connects
him with the Neo-Platonists and the medieval
Jewish philosophers, and with the whole line of
pantheistic thinkers from the Alexandrians down
to his own time. This line has been quite fully
explored by recent commentators on Spinoza in
connection especially with the present treatise.
In fact, this is the strand of culture which
Spinoza had received from Jews who had
brought it with them from Spain.

(2) Another important minor work is Spi
noza's Commentary on Descartes' Principles of
Philosophy ( Principia ) . This shows the second
chief strand which entered into and determined
Spinoza's philosophy. Descartes was the con
temporary influence working upon Spinoza, while
the Short Treatise represents the past, the in
herited stream of thought which came to him
chiefly on the ancestral lines of his people's cul
ture. Wholly to be discredited, therefore, are
the recent attempts to make Spinoza purely the
offshoot of the Jewish-Cabbalistic Medieval think
ers ; if such were really the case he could not
have his present position in the modern philoso
phy of Europe. At the same time Spinoza is
not exclusively a Cartesian, a literal follower of
the master, or simply a later phase of Cartesian-
ism, to which view most of the older commenta-

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS, 183

tors were inclined. In one sense, of course, Spi
noza was a pupil of Descartes, in fact the latter 's
greatest pupil, because he was able to develop
the master's doctrine into a higher stage which
was the next great system of thought in the line
of philosophical development. So Spinoza if he
is to perform his world-historical task has to
go through and get out of Descartes into himself
as the philosophical representative of his age.

In a general way, therefore, we may see Spi
noza's training to Cartesianism by means of the
present book which was first published in 1663
at Amsterdam. The original itself (Descartes'
Principia} was not yet twenty years old, hav
ing been published in 1644, also at Amsterdam.
Its difficulties evidently called up the private
teacher who could expound its doctrines. Such
a class of friends intimately gathered round
Spinoza for the more thorough study of
the work, the outcome being the present
exposition. These friends very naturally re
quested its publication (see Spinoza's Letter,
IX), as they always do. That it was a familiar
subject to him is indicated by the fact that he
completed the Second Part of the Principia in
two weeks, and gave it " into the hands of my
friends" who of course "soon begged me to
have it printed." But Spinoza is careful to indi
cate (in the letter just cited) that the book does
not contain his own views, which have already

184 MODEE^ EUROPE AN PHILOSOPHY.

become quite different from those of Descartes.
Moreover he gives these significant hints about
his doctrines seemingly already in manuscript:
"Through this occurrence (the aforesaid publi
cation) it may be that some persons who hold
the foremost places in my country, will be found
who may desire to see what I have written and
what I acknowledge as my own, and that they
will take care that I can publish them without any
danger of inconvenience from the law." It is
evident that Spinoza felt that he might be prose
cuted if he published his own works at this time
uftless he had the protection of some patron
powerful in the State. For he always looks to
the State for succor against the theological ran
cor of both Jew and Protestant. In the fore
going passage Spinoza was evidently thinking of
his TJieologico- Political Treatise which was
lying in his desk, destined not to see the light
till seven years more had passed away. His
"acquiescence of spirit" shines forth in some
words of the same letter: " If I can obtain no
such protection, I shall keep silent rather than
obtrude my opinions upon my unwilling
fatherland (invita patria), and render its people
hostile to me." This was the fate of Spinoza:
he obtained little or no personal fruition of his
writings during his life ; but it shows the adaman
tine grit of the man that he would do his work

SPINOZA. — W1U TINGS. 185

anyhow, without recompense in money or honor
from his people and his age.

In the present work on Descartes Spinoza
claims to be merely the expositor, but he is in.
spite of himself the interpreter. Repeatedly,
the ideas of Spinoza creep into the explanation
of Cartesianism especially in the demonstrations.
Not well otherwise could it be. For Spinoza is
really interpreting a lower stage of Philosophy
by a higher ; in fact he is pushing the lower into
the higher which is his own. Properly this is
the chief value of the book: it gives the genesis
of Cartesianism into Spinozism, though frag-
mentarily, and in part at least unintentionally.

One important change he makes purposely:
the book of Descartes he transforms completely
in its method, and applies to it the geometric
manner of exposition. The certainty which be
longs to Mathematics he will transfer to philos
ophy, following herein a precept of Descartes,
who, however, declined to carry it out himself.
Spinoza, accordingly, gets the training for the
peculiar form which he imposes upon his Ethics,
in his present work. So upon this point he
stands quite alone in the History of Philosophy,
though herein he is seeking to realize Descartes.

Spinoza's comment extends only to the first
two Parts of Descartes' book, with a small frag
ment of the Third Part. But there is an appen
dix called " Metaphysical Thoughts," in which

186 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Spinoza works with a somewhat freer hand upon
his Cartesian materials, and throws aside his
geometric method. It may also be added that
the present book was published the same year
that Spinoza left the Collegiants, who were
inclined to Cartesianism ; his separation may
well indicate that he had outgrown them, and
that he no longer felt at home in his old environ
ment with them.

Putting together and comparing the two minor
works already designated we observe th at i\\Q Short
Treatise has the tendency to the infinite, to the
transcending of all limits andto the union of man
in God, after the Neo-Platonic, pantheistic man
ner; while the Commentary on Hie Principles
of Descartes has quite the opposite tendency,
namely, to put limits upon the mind and to
thrust the infinitude of thought into a rigid and
narrow geometric mold. Both these tendencies
in their opposition Spinoza will carry over into
his Ethics, making God Himself on the one
hand Substance and on the other mathematical.

(3) There is a third minor work On the
Improvement of tJie Intellect (De fimendatione
Intellectus) , which must likewise be regarded as
a preparatory phase of the Ethics. The impor
tance of the Intellect in the scheme of Spinoza
is very great. It is the controller, he seeks to
make it swallow up the Will. Through it, in its
highest form (intuition in the Etliics) man

SPINOZA. — WHITINGS. 187

beholds the divine act in its creative power
creating the world; through it he sees the
ultimate truth of things.

In the present treatise the Intellect has four
kinds of knowing or perception. These four are
reduced to three in the Ethics, which fact indi
cates an advance. About this part of his sub
ject Spinoza reflected a great deal ; the kinds of
knowledge or the modes of perception he turns
over and over in manifold repetition, which we
need not repeat here after him. But his strug
gle to co-ordinate the separate activities of the
Intellect is very manifest. He seems to feel
dimly that just in this' Psychology of the Mind,
of which Emotion, Will and Intellect are three
forms or stages, lay the real germ of his work
and of all Philosophy — a germ which the future
was to develop. But Spinoza and Spinoza's
age were not ready for any such development.
Still it is impressive to notice that there lurked
in one little corner of his philosophical system
the germinal movement of the coming Psy
chology.

This Treatise remained unfinished, almost as
if the author had run upon some obstacle which
he could not surmount. We deem it highly
probable that what stopped him was the deduc
tion of the geometric method as the proper one
for Philosophy. If so, he never reached his
object. He had developed this method in con-

188 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

struing Descartes' Principia, but he had not
grounded it in Reason or Intellect. This seems
to be the gap which lies between the present
treatise and the Ethics, which simply takes the
geometric method for granted and proceeds to
apply it without justifying its employment. We
conceive that Spinoza, starting without this
method in his Improvement of the Intellect, in
tends to pass over into it as the final outcome
and attainment of such Improvement. Thus it
would be ready for his Ethics.

Another point should be noted. The beginning
of this treatise is evidently an imitation of Des
cartes' Discourse on Method, as regards form.
Spinoza here becomes autobiographical, and
narrates his personal experience in his philo
sophical strivings. He tells how he renounced all
finite ends, such as Riches, Famine, and Pleas
ure, "for Love toward a thing eternal and
infinite," which fills " the mind wholly with
joy" (or with Blessednsss, in the Ethics).
" The fixed Good," not the fleeting, was the
great end with him. This declares his decided
ethical bent, while Descartes sought after a cri
terion for knowing truth from falsehood. More
over Spinoza seeks to impart his end and to
" endeavor that many attain it with me." He
longs for a following, he must have a kind of
school. On the whole, however, personal experi
ences fit Descartes better than Spinoza, who has

SPINOZA. — WRITINGS. 189

the tendency, at least in one direction, to make
the individual a mere mode or appearance.

The Letters of Spinoza can here be only
alluded to. They have biographical value, and
they also constitute a kind of running commen
tary upon his philosophy, extending from 1661
till a short time before his death.

5. Summary. If we now look back of the
totality of Spinoza's works, we find that they
are fragments of one great fragment of a vast
philosophic Whole. We may well place the
Ethics as the central achievement, but it is a
part or fragment round which cluster other frag
ments somewhat in the following order. Pre
paratory to it and showing the genesis of it are the
three minor works which have been mentioned.
But after it and completing it in its institutional
stage are the two Treatises, Politico-Theolo
gical and Political. Still with all these portions
added, the Ethics remains incomplete on a num
ber of sides as a system of Philosophy. It is
most defective in the matter of Physics, though
in this sphere Spinoza has something. The
edifice is not finished, though enough has been
done to show its colossal proportions.

And now we shall attempt to outline this vast
philosophic totality which has had the peculiar
trait of increasing in influence and importance
with the centuries. Spinoza's system does not
crumble, but actually grows with time, unfolding

190 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

more and more into completeness, as if it were
a Hebrew prophecy moving toward its fulfill
ment.

III. SPINOZA'S PHILOSOPHY. — There is no sin
gle work of Spinoza's which gives the complete
system of his Thought. This has to be put to
gether out of all his Writings, which sprang up
according to time and accident. In these Writ
ings is lurking and working a necessary princi
ple, which never comes to a full expression and
organization of itself, yet which is the source
and impelling power in all of Spinoza's philoso
phizing. He is seeking to formulate the great
threefold principle of the Universe, the Abso
lute (or God), the World (or Nature), and Man
(or Mind, Soul), in his way, or after his concep
tion. It is this Norm, unfolded in an original
manner, which makes him the philosopher, for
all philosophers must have something in common
which causes them to be designated by the com
mon name, philosophers. Spinoza has, there
fore, as his deepest element, the philosophic
Norm, not the religious or the psychological,
though we shall find that he has much to do with
religion connecting him with Past, and with
psychology connecting him with the Future.

Spinoza is, therefore, the philosopher, and is
moved, often unconsciously, by the philosophic
Norm, after which the thinking Ego is formu
lating or categorizing the Universe, but it on the

SPINOZA. — PHIL 0 SOPHY. 191

whole leaves itself out of the fundamental process
of its own thought. Spinoza declares the essence
of Being (the ousia of the on) to be Substance;
yet he, the philosopher, producing in thought
this Substance, is himself something very unsub
stantial and vanishing — a mere mode ; he is really
not a part or stage of his own process. This
characteristic, however, he shares with all phi
losophers, since it lies in the very nature of the
philosophic Norm, which he employs and of
which he is but one expression, namely the
Spinozan.

This Norm moves through the three stages,
which have been generally called Metaphysics,
Physics, and Ethics. These are all seen unfold
ing in Spinoza though with different degrees of
strength and validity. The place of Physics or
the science of Nature as such has a tendency
in Spinoza to drop down to a secondary or even
a vanishing stage; still it cannot be left out of
the normal development of his system. In fact
the thought of Spinoza divides or rather is cleft
fundamentally into the two grand divisions, the
metaphysical and the ethical, which constitute
the profoundest dualism in the Philosophy of
the Seventeenth Century . This basic fact we shall
seek to make manifest in the following exposi
tion, which, however, proceeds on the lines of
the total Norm of the philosopher.

192 MOD EE N E UR OPE AN PHILOSOPHY.

A. METAPHYSICS.

The distinctively metaphysical part of Spinoza's
system shows us his bridge out of Descartes to
his own original Thought. Everywhere we find
Cartesian starting-points both in word and con
cept, till the philosopher takes us by the hand
and leads us over into his own new territory.
Spinoza himself did not make this transition
all at once. He had first to come to Descartes
from his Jewish and other antecedents, linger
awhile on the outskirts of the Cartesian temple,
then enter it and pass through it in all its details
till he finally moved out of it into the promised
land of his own genius. Thus Spinoza appropri
ates and then transcends his master, who therein
shows himself to be truly a master, being able
to rear a pupil who can surpass him.

In a general way we can trace his development
into, through, and out of Descartes in several of
his earlier writings, especially in his Short Treatise
and in his commentary on the Principia of the
French philosopher. Atlast in his great work, the
Ethics, he gave his final statement of this spirit
ual transition from philosophic pupilage to phil
osophic independence — a pupilage which lasted
probably a dozen years. Not too long is this to
assimilate a great system of thought, to carry it
out to its consequences in life, and then to mount
above it into a world of your own creation. Such

SPINOZA. — ME TAPIIYSIGS. 1 93

a movement we may read in the First Part of the
Ethics, divested indeed of all personal reference
and precipitated into the purest abstractions of
Thinking.

The categories in which the present metaphys
ical part of Spinoza's system unfolds itself are
three — Substance, Attribute, and Mode. He
seeks to express the pure thought of the All,
such as it is in itself, freed from every pre-sup-
position. At first he seems to shun the intro
duction of God (though defining Him) ; soon,
however, he has to identify God with Substance
(Deus sive substantia I. Prop. 11). It will
conduce, we think, to a more definite notion of
the present sphere, if we cling to the abstract
term, Substance, though it is not to be forgotten
that Spinoza's deepest trait is to carry everything
up into God.

I. Substance. This term in its narrow sense
applies to the first stage of the present sphere,
though in its larger sense it includes the whole
sphere, embracing also Attribute and Mode,
which are declared to be of Substance.

Spinoza, in accord with his geometric method,
starts with a definition of Substance: " By Sub
stance I understand that which is in itself, and
is conceived through itself; that is, the concep
tion of it does not need the conception of some
thing else in order to be formed." Here we are
to note the act of conception (the Ego) intro-

13

194 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL G SOPHY.

duced into the definition of Substance which is
that which I must conceive in and through itself,
not through another object. This lurking Ego
we shall find to be the subtle secret demiurge
constructing Spinoza's Philosophy, and then
driving it beyond itself into a higher synthesis.

At present, however, we are to give the char
acteristics which belong to the conception of
Substance, and which are supposed to follow
from the preceding definition.

(1) Substance is one, indeed the One, and the
one only One in the universe. There cannot
exist in the universe two or more Substances
(I. Pr. 5), for they would limit each other, and
thus manifest finitude or determination, which is
the negation of Substance.

(2) Substance is infinite, indivisible, indeter
minate. These three predicates all express the
negative side of Substance as the One, negating
the finite, the divisible and the determinate.
These latter, however, have really the negative
principle according to Spinoza, since they
negate Substance (omnis determinatio est nega-
tio), which is truly the positive in the universe.

(3) Substance is the cause of itself (causa
sui). This we place as the third predicate
of Substance, though Spinoza gives it as the
first definition in his EtJiics: " By self -cause I
mean that of which the essence involves exist
ence, or that of which the nature can only be

SPINOZA. — METAPHYSICS. 195

conceived as existent." Thus it combines in one
the separate concepts of essence and existence.
Self -cause also hints the inner process of division
within itself and return to itself, or the Psychosis.
The reality corresponding to self-cause is the
Ego with its movement into self-separation and
self -return, whose very essence is its existence,
whose internality is its externality. Thus Spi
noza defining self-cause and putting it as his start
ing-point, is unconsciously defining the Ego (or
Self) as his first principle and the true Sub
stance. This is a great thing to do and prophetic
of much that is to follow.

There is no doubt, however, that this category
of self -cause as metaphysical shows itself imper
fect. It may be said that if a thing causes itself,
or is the effect of itself, it has to exist before
itself, has to be before its own being in order to
be. Even the speculative mind has to take a
considerable leap before it can find anything but
contradiction in any such statement. Or if the
cause is simply one with the effect, it is no cause
at all, it vanishes into the effect which in its turn
vanishes also since it cannot be without a cause.
Such a negative dialectical seesaw lies in the
category of self -cause, inviting the skeptical
spirit to seize hold of it and to turn it inside out.
Still the thought here is true and profound, but
it must free itself of its own metaphysical en
tanglements by being grasped and formulated

196 MOD EEN EURO PEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

psychologically. Taken as a process and as the
very process of the Self, the thought is indeed
new-born, though it can find traces of its an
cestry in Spinoza's self-cause.

It is true that our philosopher does not put an
Ego or self -consciousness into his Substance,
denying to the same both Intellect and Will
which are rather Modes belonging far down in
the individual Self, and are hardly worthy of a
place in the Supreme One. Nor yet is any such
thing possible ; the worth of the individual has
not yet fully dawned upon him or upon Europe,
and particularly upon that most aristocratic of
all sciences, Philosophy. If Spinoza could have
put the self-conscious Ego into the heart of his
Substance and have wrought it out into a consist
ent system of thought, he would have made a
spring out of his own century into ours, which is
a feat that the Time-Spirit has never yet per
mitted to mortal man. Still our chief interest is
to watch our thought fermenting and struggling
already in Spinoza and to trace out of him the
descent of our own Age's deepest principle.

On the other hand there is a decided backward
tendency in Spinoza's Substance. These predi
cates of it remind us of Neo-Platonism, es
pecially of Plotinus, whose one only One was
also above self -consciousness, was above Intellect
and Will, above all determination, finitude, and
separation ; yet somehow mind and matter had to

SPINOZA. - METAPHYSICS. 197

separate from it and overflow out of it, becoming
individualized in soul and body, like the Modes of
Spinoza (see our Ancient European Philosophy,
pp. 618-23). Pantheism this doctrine is usually
named — a much-abused and uncertain designa
tion. But it shows an important strand of the
past running through Spinoza which connects
him with Jewish writers of the middle ages, who
in turn reach back to the Greek Neo-Platonists,
and still further back to earlier Alexandrian
thinkers, such as Philo.

Still Spinoza took his Substance directly from
Descartes, to whom it come from the schoolmen.
In fact we can plainly see our philosopher rising
above his master and removing a fundamental dif
ficulty in the Cartesian conception of Substance
which is said to be of two kinds, uncreated and
created, the latter being likewise of two kinds,
mind and matter, whose attributes are Thought
and Extension. Descartes holds that God alone
is really Substance, which term has not the same
meaning when applied to created objects. Still
Descartes, after having made the distinction,
does not use it, but continues to speak of
Thought and Extension as Substances along with
God. This ambiguity Spinoza avoids by employ
ing the term Attributes for Thought and Exten
sion as derived from the underived One, namely,
Substance or God, and by giving them a distinct
place in the metaphysical sphere of his system.

198 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

That is, he wipes out mind and matter (the
created Substances nf p^sr-art.^), hnt prpsp.rvoa
their Attdhutfia, fmd applies these directljj^the
one uncreated Substance.

II. Attributes. It is declared that" Substance
consists of infinite Attributes " (Ethicsl. Prop.
II.), infinite in character and in number. Here
we see a separative principle pertaining to Sub
stance, and endowing it with infinite division.
This is what places the Attributes in the second
stage of the present sphere.

Spinoza has given a definition of Attribute, as
it is one of the things with which he has to start.
Says he : "By Attribute I understand that which
the Intellect perceives concerning Substance, as
constituting the essence of the same." Out of
this definition two very different meanings have
developed according as the division into Attri
butes is considered to be put into Substance
from the outside by the Intellect or to be
unfolded from within the Substance itself.

(1) Looking into the definition, we observe
that the Intellect (or Ego) has to perceive this
Attribute, and to find it in Substance, as the
essence of the latter. The Attribute is "that
which the Intellect perceives," in regard to Sub
stance : in which statement the stress is upon the
subjective derivation of the Attribute. A view
similar to this is found among medieval Jewish
theologians who held that the Attributes of God

SPINOZA. — ME TAPI1 YSICS. 199

(or of Substance) were not the actual determin
ations of God Himself, who was the infinite and
indeterminate and so above every Attribute, but
were the ways in which the Intellect (or Ego)
conceived God or Substance. Such a doctrine
may be supposed to have come into Spinoza's
life through the religious teachings of his people.
(2) Equally certain is it that Spinoza affirms
the inner character of Substance as dividing and
unfolding itself into many Attributes, which are
therefore not merely subjective, but objective,
inherent in Substance itself. Infinite in number
are the Attributes of Substance, yet we know
only two — Thought and Extension. That is,
we know that there must be an infinite division
of Substance, yet we can grasp definitely and
name only two of these divisions.

But thus Spinoza is aware that he destroys the
unity of the infinite One or Substance. He must
somehow keep out all division, hence he declares
that " no Attribute can be conceived from which
it would result that Substance can divided"
(Ethics, I. Prop. 12). Also " a completely in
finite Substance is indivisible" (Ditto, Prop. 13).
This Substance Spinoza identifies with God:
"No Substance can exist or can be conceived
except God" (Ditto, Prop. 14). Here we see
the same struggle to exclude division from the
One or God which can be observed in Neo-Pla-
tonism. And there is the same failure. Sub-

200 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

stance must be deemed as passing over into its
Attributes, separating within itself and positing
itself in infinite forms of which we can know only
two, Thought and Extension.

But how about these two? Between them is
the grand difference, as between mind and
matter, soul and body. Here again we see
Spinoza working over a phase of the Cartesian
dualism. Thought and Extension are indeed
infinite, but they are relatively infinite, not abso
lutely infinite like Substance. Still further they
mutually exclude each other as opposites. This
is the gulf: *' Body does not determine mind to
think, nor does the mind determine the body to
move" (Ethics III, Prop. 2). Still the two
must and do co-operate ; mind must ideate the
object, and the object must stimulate the mind.
Or is all knowing of the object a Maya, a mere
subjective delusion? So Orienial thinkers have
held, but Spinoza, to avoid such a conclusion,
introduces his conception of parallelism (named
also correspondence and consubstantiality).

(3) This is uttered by Spinoza in one of his
most striking propositions: "The order and
connection of ideas is the same as the order and
connection of objects" (II, Prop. 7). But
what causes this complete correspondence be
tween two opposite and mutually exclusive pro
cesses? " Substance thinking and Substance
extended are one and the same thing," namely

SPINOZA. — ME TAPHYSICS. 201

Substance as such, which is thus the cause and
first source of the two Attributes, Thought and
Extension. These run exactly parallel though
wholly independent of each other, and must
manifest a divine correspondence "in their
order and connection."

This is another phase of Spinoza's evolution
out of Descartes, who made God solve the dual
ism between Thought and Extension by direct
fiat, hence externally. But Spinoza solves the
same problem by the inner unfolding of God's
own nature — God being Substance. It is not
God's Will, for God has no Will according to
Spinoza, but it is His very Being which issues
into Thought and Extension, opposite yet in
complete correspondence through Him. They
are consubstantial , moving in harmony not
through themselves but through their first
cause which is Substance.

We now see the real purpose of the doctrine of
the Attributes: it is to unite Thinking and
Being, Mind and Matter, Soul and Body through
the principle of correspondence, or, to use the
better word, consubstantiality. It is still the
grand question which was especially started
by Descartes: How can I know the external
world? Long will the discussion hold out;
it is still going on. But Spinoza has
given his answer, and from it will un
fold his system of Philosophy, which will show

202 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

an inner necessity interlocking the whole uni
verse. His Ego thinking the object is really the
thinking Substance which at the same time is the
object thought in exact counterpart (ordo idea-
rum est idem ac ordo rerum) without a break.
Hence Spinoza's pantheism can hardly be said to
maintain the doctrine of the Maya, or the
world's illusion, as does the Hindoo pantheism.
Still it has great difficulties which have been
uncovered by critics and have driven philosophic
thought out of Spinoza into other and later sys
tems. Some of these difficulties we shall men
tion in other connections ; but there is one which
may well be considered now. Though Substance
determines Thought, as it were absolutely, Spi
noza's Thought is certainly here determining Sub
stance, thinking that which thinks it or posits it
as thought. Spinoza's Ego is, therefore, a very
important factor in the present exposition, for it
returns to the Substance which creates it, re
creating the same in Thought, and requiring all
his readers to do likewise. Really, then, the
function of Substance is to unfold an Attribute
(Thought) which is to unfold it unfolding into
its Attributes. Spinoza's Ego secretly projects
the God who makes him, yet makes him the God-
maker. Such is again that demiurgic Ego lurk
ing in Spinoza's and in all Philosophy, driving it
forward from one system to another, and finally

SPINOZA. — METAPHYSICS. 203

driving it out of itself, and perchance out of
Europe.

The important point won by Spinoza in the
doctrine of Attributes is the principle of consub-
stantiality in Thought and Extension. It will
furnish the ground of explanation for all dualism
in the world of manifestation which is next to
be considered under the category of Modes.
Properly the Attributes have no individuals, no
consciousness, no Self. This is what is next to

appear.

III. Modes. These are changes from Substance,
since they exist not in themselves (like Sub
stance) but through another. Yet they belong
to the All, are determinations of Substance
(affectiones substantial). Spinoza has given the
definition of Mode as follows: "By Mode I
understand determinations of substance, or that
which exists in another, through which (other)
it is conceived." (Ethics I. Def. 5.) In an
opposite way the definition of Substance declares
it to be " that which exists in itself and is con
ceived through itself." Mode is, therefore,
Substance determined, fiuitized, individualized;
still there is an infinite side to Mode (infinite
Modes, as Spinoza says). Motion, for instance,
is a Mode of Substance being infinite, without
end or beginning, yet this general motion (infinite
Mode) is made up of many particular Motions
(finite Modes) which arise and pass away. In

204 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

like manner all the particulars of Intellect (in
finite Mode) such as perception, memory, imagi
nation, are finite Modes when taken sepa
rately, and are transitory. The links of the
chain are finite Modes, but the total chain is the
infinite Mode. Or, to take another illustration,
the genus is Mode as infinite, while the individ
uals constituting the genus make the Mode as
finite and transitory. Spinoza repeatedly speaks
as if the Universe was made up of Substance
and Modes; what then, is the function of the
Attributes? It is to divide Substance into two
mutually exclusive spheres, Thought and Exten
sion, which have no connection, no relation with
each other. They can be made to correspond
only through Substance, which thus determines
them.

On the other hand each Attribute has its
divisions also which are called Modes, that is
determinations or modifications of the Attribute,
and through it of the Substance. But the
further fact is that the division of the Attribute,
namely the Modes of that Attribute, are not
mutually exclusive. For instance, the divisions
of Thought as Attribute are Intellect and Will,
which even in their difference as faculties or
mental activities, are united in the mind. In like
manner the divisions of Extension such as Motion
and Kest, can have direct relations to each other,
though not to Thought or any of its divisions.

SPINOZA. — ME TAPH YSICS. 205

Thus the original rift remains, passing from
Substance, through the Attributes down into the
Modes. Each Attribute has, therefore, within
itself a world of Modes, all of which stand in
connection with one another, but not in any
connection with the Modes of a different Attri
bute. Thus the Modes constitute two independ
ent worlds, except as they are mediated with
each other through Substance, which is the
supreme determiner.

Spinoza seems at first to have had only two
stages in this metaphysical process — Substance
and Modes. But he interjected the Attribute
in order to win his doctrine of consubstantiality
which explains the Cartesian dualism of Thought
and Extension as well as settles definitely the
function of Substance. Then he could fix more
precisely the significance of the Mode, which is

(1) finite, or the world of separate individuals;

(2) these constitute the Mode as infinite, when
joined together as genus; (3) the Mode is also
consubstantial, coming into relation with the
Mode of a different Attribute through the me
diation of the Highest, namely Substance. Here,
in the Mode, another Cartesian dualism, that of
mind and body, is explained in Spinozan fashion.
Mind and body are Modes, the one of Thought
and the other of Extension; " the mind cannot
determine the body to move, nor can the body
determine the mind to think " (III. Prop. 2).

206 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Still mind and body are consubstantial; both are
determined in their order and connection by
Substance. In Descartes it is properly the fiat
of God which makes soul and body co-operate,
uniting the unextended and the extended through
and in the pineal gland.

Looking back at the three stages of the meta
physics of Spinoza's Philosophy — Substance,
Attribute, and Mode — we observe that each of
them goes back to Descartes and is employed to
solve a problem which he left unsolved, at least
unsolved for Spinoza. The latter builds upon
Cartesian foundations, but seeks to transcend his
master, calling to his aid antecedent Jewish and
Neo-Platonic philosophers, though in his own
independent way. We see Spinoza breaking
through Descartes into himself in the foregoing
metaphysical development; he rises from pupil
age to mastery.

It is usually felt that there is a process in these
three categories. Hegel looks at them in this
light, and regards them as the forerunners of his
own three categories of the Conception (Begriff),
namely the Universal, the Particular, and the In
dividual. Still further, there is the suggestion
of the psychical process (Psychosis), though it
is by no means distinct and consciously present to
Spinoza, who would keep the self-conscious Ego
out of Substance and Attribute, putting it down
into the realm of the Modes, though certainly not

SPINOZA. — METAPHYSICS. 207

extinguishing it in Substance. Still the Ego of
Spinoza (as already pointed out) is the chief
factor in constructing this entire system, though
thrust down to the bottom of the system which
it has built. Thus Spinoza, while solving the
dualisms of Descartes, has fallen into a far deeper
dualism himself, the nature of which will be
more fully seen when we come to his final or
Ethical stage.

Still in the Mode we can spy out a partial re
turn to and participation in the primal Substance.
For when Spinoza speaks of an infinite Mode,
he applies to this Mode a predicate which
he has already assigned to Substance. In spite,
therefore, of the emphatic descant of Substance
to Mode, quite like the Neo-Platonic lapse, there
is also a line of ascent and return of the latter to
the former, even if incomplete. Indeed it would
seem that all particular, finite Modes can rise to
the genus as infinite and thus share in Substance.
Hence the underlying psychical return can be
discerned even in the metaphysical stage of
Spinoza,

But when we include the philosopher in his
own process of thought, we find that just this is
what he has been doing. Spinoza'sEgo, which is
Mode, must go back to Substance, and think it,
thus creating or at least re-creating it in thought.
When he says per substantiam intelligo (I. Pr. 3)
he as Ego is defining, thinking, reproducing

208 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Substance. It is "that which is conceived in
itself" — by whom? By a Mode (Ego) which
has been derived from it. Thus that which is
derived or caused, returns to its source or cause,
and derives or conceives that. Metaphysically
this is a complete contradiction according to
Spinoza, for Substance is its own eternal cause
and not Mode. But he is unconsciously doing
just what he says cannot be done, and is psycho
logically correct in doing so.

It has been also noted that the Attribute
was the second or divisive stage in the total
movement of Substance, psychically conceived.
Yet according to the Spinozan metaphysics, Sub
stance is indivisible, indeterminate. And still the
Attribute can hardly be other than some kind of
determination of Substance. In fact, Spinoza
makes the Attribute just the realm of division ;
and ultimately what is there to be divided but
Substance, the One and All? At least three
divisions of these Attributes of Substance appear
in Spinoza : ( 1) Attributes are infinite in number,
and it would seem in quality. This indicates
that the Attribute is the principle of division.
Of what else can this be but of Substance? (2)
Attributes are further divided into the known
and unknown — two known, all the rest un
known. This division regards the subject, the
Ego, within its supposed limits. (3) The explicit

SPINOZA. — METAPHYSICS. 209

division of the Attributes is into Thought and
Extension.

Thus it appears that the Attribute is the
realm of division, of multiplicity, for Spinoza;
how then can it lie outside of the All or Sub
stance? Indeed the Attribute of Substance is
closely related to the essence of Being, which is
the old formula of Philosophy, and which Spi
noza sought to set aside as implying the division
of Being (or Substance). For when we say
essence, cause, principle of Being, we imply that
there is something apart from or behind Being
which determines it. Spinoza's Substance is,
therefore, its own essence, its own cause (causa
sui) ; it is the One and All in itself. Still it has
Attributes, through which alone it can be con
ceived by the Ego, without which therefore, it
could not be an object of knowledge. Notwith
standing all of Spinoza's efforts to exclude divi
sion from his Substance, it creeps in and stays,
both subjectively and objectively.

Here we may allude to a controversy between
two famous historians of Philosophy concerning
this matter — J.E. Erdmaim and K.Fischer (both
of the Hegelian School). Primarily the dis
pute turns upon the translation of tanquam in
Spinoza's definition of Attribute, which is " that
which the Intellect perceives concerning Sub
stance as (or as if) constituting its essence
(TANQUAM ejusdem essentiam constituens) ." The

14

210 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

first translation (as) implies that the Attributes
are real constituents of Substance ; the second
translation (as if) implies that they are appar
ent constituents of Substance, are merely in the
perceiving Intellect, not in God. Without going
into further details of this discussion, the
reader can see at once that both sides are right
in a sense and both are wrong in a sense.
Spinoza has both in his conception, both the
objective and tho subjective, both the real and
the apparent. This is one phase of his dualism
which is not to be wiped out by taking one side
or the other. Both the above-mentioned philo
sophic gentlemen are just alike and both wrong
in taking antagonistic sides in this matter. We
are to see that Spinoza has both sides and both
in a process with each other, which process is
completed by a third principle (consubstantiality )
which in its way unites both, that is, both object
and subject. It is true that this process is not
explicitly given by Spinoza, still it is the inner
unconscious germ unfolding in his Philosophy.
Evidently there is but one solution for all
these contradictions in Spinoza: they must be
seen as a process, and that too as a psychical pro
cess ( or the Psychosis) , whose stages if held apart
become purely separative and contradictory.
For this the manner of Spinoza is largely to
blame. He proceeds mathematically, by defini
tion, axiom, postulate. Thus the actual process

SPINOZA. — METAPHYSICS. 211

is cut to pieces and thrown out bit by bit, which
the reader has to put together again if he will
form a consistent Whole out of these fragments.
The geometric manner starts with the solid real
world, and abstracts surface (or plane), line and
point, out of which it constructs the new geo
metric ideal world. Spinoza's procedure in
Philosophy seeks to be similar ; starting with the
Universe it abstracts Substance, Attribute, and
Mode, in a descending conscious line to the last,
which, however, as Mode (or Point) returns
unconsciously to the first and secretly makes the
whole a process. In spite of his Metaphysics
and Mathematics, Spinoza is psychological under
neath his formalism, and must be ultimately so
interpreted. In fact, just this is his greatness
and his importance for the future.

Spinoza's great aim in his doctrine of Sub
stance is to assail and batter down the capricious
God of his time — the God of Catholicism and
Augustine as well as the God of Protestantism
and Calvin. For this reason he has been called
an atheist by the theologians, but he is not.
By Hegel and others he is named an acosmist,
or one who denies the world, but this title also
does not fit. Others call him just the opposite,
a cosmotheist, others a pantheist, the latter
being his most common designation. The im
partial reader will see some ground for all these
epithets, yet he will be inclined to reject them

212 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

all as insufficient. For they all leave out that
inwardly working psychical process without
which Spinoza is pure absurdity and contradic
tion. In fact, the interpretations of Spinoza
have made a history of themselves, which we
shall allude to more fully in another connection.
Is not Spinoza himself somewhat like his own
God? The anthropomorphic capricious deity of
his people had driven him forth like Hagar, to
the wilderness, out of his Hebrew world. But
he finds not a wilderness, not a Godless realm;
on the contrary, he possesses the inner power to
reconstruct the whole universe and to re-make its
God, who in this new domain cannot be capri
cious, or even transcendent like the Cartesian
deity. God is now immanent in the world,
works according to His law and nature by an
inner necessity which banishes caprice from the
universe. God is a geometric movement and
requires no special Will or Intellect in unfold
ing. Such is the colossality of Spinoza's thought,
truly absolute and all-comprehending. But it
also shows great limitations, having no explicit
process, no Ego, no self-consciousness in its
metaphysical aspect. The result is, Spinoza's
thought shows within itself on its descending
side inner self -opposition and disintegration,
which finally compels it to overcome itself and
rise to its opposite.

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 2 13

The outcome then of the preceding metaphysi
cal movement is the absoluteness of Substance,
which not only determines the world but is the
world. This Substance is God, who is therefore
immanent in Nature, is really Nature, so that
Spinoza says Deus sive Natural. This brings us
to the second grand division of the philosophic
Norm, Nature, which we are now to see through
the eyes of Spinoza.

B. PHYSICS.

In this sphere Spinoza connects with, yet also
separates from Descartes. Both consider the
essence of the material world to be Extension ;
but Descartes makes Extension an Attribute of
Matter as a created Substance, while Spinoza
makes Extension directly an Attribute of the one
uncreated (or self -created) Substance, and thus
wipes out the intervening Cartesian Matter.
Hence we have the statement (II. 2): "Ex
tension is an Attribute of God, or God is an
extended thing (res extensa)." In Descartes
Extension is material, indeed the Primal Matter;
in Spinoza it is " an Attribute of God " who is the
Extended, and is not Matter directly, as created
by God. At the same time Spinoza asserts
that God is indivisible; though k' an extended
thing," He cannot be divided; also He is in
corporeal. Still He is Substance, is the All, the

214 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

self -caused. The divided, the corporeal, the
material world would thus seem to be insub
stantial, illusory, a mere Appearance. Such is
one side, the metaphysical of Spinoza, which,
being carried over into Physics, reduces this
science to be a kind of unreal phantasm. But
there is another side to Spinoza, just the oppo
site, in fact, and these sides are seen grappling
just in the present field of Nature.

It is evident that the system of Spinoza in strong
contrast to that of Descartes, cannot present a
very sympathetic face to Physics, the second
stage of the philosophic Norm, the one dealing
with Nature, the finite world of phenomena.
" Particular things are Modes, by which the
Attributes of God (Thought and Extension)
are expressed in a certain and determinate man
ner.' (I. 25. cor.) The realm of Physics is
specially the realm of " particular things," which
have not only no existence, but no essence ex
cept in God. Thus a finite object has no reality
in itself, as is inferred from the following : « ' God
is not only the efficient cause of the existence
of things, but also of their essence " (I. 25) ; or
their true essence, the essence of essences, is God.
"A thing which has been determined by God
for performing something cannot make itself
undetermined" (I. 27). Still less can it be
self-determined. Such is the expression of
Spinozan necessity. All forms of particularity

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 215

are Modes haying neither essence nor existence
in themselves, but having only an apparent,
illusory being through our way of conceiving
them. "In the Universe there is nothing con
tingent, but all is determined from the necessity
of the divine nature to exist and to act in a
certain manner." (I. 29.) It is, then, the
essence of God to produce things which have
no essence.

But just here Spinoza makes a peculiar dis
tinction. Every particular finite thing is not
determined by God directly, but by another
cause which is itself finite and determined;
still further this finite cause is determined by
another finite cause, and so on indefinitely
(I. 28). Thus the whole determined finite
world of causation is separated from God, who
does not immediately finitize himself, but
through some medium. From the absolute (as
God or his attributes) only the absolute follows,
and from the finite only the finite. How can the
chasm be crossed from infinite to finite, from God
to the world? On the whole, the chasm is not
crossed, the dualism remains and is profoundly
characteristic of Spinoza, Still he often seems
aware of it and makes a struggle to unite the
two sides as follows: "The finite thing
must result from and be determined to existence
and activity by God or one of his Attributes^ in
so far this Attribute is modified by a modification

216 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which is finite and has determinate existence "
(I. 28, Dem). So the Attribute (and God, too,
it would seem) can be modified in turn by a
Mode, or a finite modification. Very important
is this suggestion for the coming portion of
Spinoza's system. We also read that a Mode
can " exist necessarily and as infinite " (whereby
there are two kinds of Modes at least, and quite
opposite), and that such a Mode " can be derived
either from the absolute nature of some Attri
bute of God, or from some Attribute modified by
some modification, which exists necessarily and as
infinite" (I. 23). All these fine distinctions
show one thing very decisively: Spinoza's tre
mendous struggle to keep his God one and
above all division, and yet to find some
ground for the multiplicity of Nature, of the
finite world, and its existence. He recognizes
that the Mode (or a certain form of it) can go
back and modify its modifier, the Attribute, and
even God, as we shall see more fully later.
Already let the reader carefully note this turning-
back of the Mode, its reaction against the iron
chain of necessity in which it has been placed
hitherto.

So Spinoza in his treatment of Nature will
have to give some substantality to finite things
even if he proclaims also their insubstantial
character. Though it be merely a modification
of the Attribute, it is at times endowed with the

SPINO ZA. — PH YSICS. 2 1 7

power of modifying the Attribute. Though the
finite, determined object is simply a negation, yet
it " is really a negation in part " not altogether
(I. 8, Schol. 1). Then this negation is not to
be left out, it belongs to the universe, and can
not rightly be omitted from Substance or God,
though Spinoza hardly knows what to do with it.
His trouble with the finite is indeed fundamen
tal, he will always be driving it out, yet always
letting it back again in spite of himself. After
being banished from his process, it will secretly
assert itself as a part of that process.

The twofoldness will particularly show itself
in his Physics, which we may look at under
three heads: Extension, Body (as material),
and Body (as human, with Soul).

I. Extension. As this is one of the two Attri
butes of Substance, and in a general way
embraces the material or finite world, we shall con
sider it as first under the head of Physics. Spinoza
declares emphatically that his conception of Ex
tension is different from that of Descartes (in
Epist. 69 and 70). For "Descartes makes Ex
tension an inert mass, from which it is impossible
to prove the existence of bodies." Furthermore,
according to the Cartesian view, God sets this
mass in motion, so that motion comes from the
outside into it, and is not a Mode of it coming
from within, this Extension itself being an At
tribute which conies from Substance. In these

218 MODERN EUEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

views we see plainly the distinction between the
systems of Spinoza and Descartes. The external
mechanical agency of God, so characteristic of
the Cartesian Philosophy, Spinoza puts inside
the Universe, in fact inside of God, who is thus
immanent in all things, even the immanent cause,
not transcendent. To be sure, Spinoza will find
it quite impossible to carry this thought through
his entire system with consistency. We feel his
trouble already in the term immanent cause, and
also in self -cause.

Accordingly, Spinoza holds that Motion and
Eest are the modifications of Extension, these
being named infinite Modes — an expression
which has already been noticed and which has
given rise to much questioning. Why should the
very predicate of Mode, the finite, be suddenly
changed to infinite, which is the fundamental
predicate of Substance? (I. 8.) Here is an
other instance of that return of the Mode to its
starting-point in Substance, whereby the finite
is made to partake of the infinite, for the phrase
infinite Mode puts really the two adjectives to
gether, even if opposites. Thus Extension has
Motion and Rest and their inter-relation perpetu
ally going on within itself, and herein manifests
a kind of self-activity, which, though a Mode, is
infinite and so substantial. Undoubtedly Spinoza
does not state these two phases of his Mode as
two stages of a process, but as two sides of a

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 2 >9

dualism, which, as far as he goes, remains in
unreconciled contradiction. Still less does he
see this self -returning activity of his Mode as the
very necessity of his own Ego to complete its
process in its thinking. Nevertheless it is
wonderful to observe how his true philosophic
instinct, against his conscious purpose drives him
covertly to turn back his separated and estrayed
Finite into the Infinite.

II. Body (as material) . The corporeal world
is one with which Spinoza has little congeniality,
being just the manifestation of finitude, multi
plicity, division, all of them hateful categories to
the idealist. Yet this Appearance will not van
ish, but persists in being and finally has to be
reckoned with. It will somehow creep into the
system of thought from which it has been ex
cluded, and usually splits the same wide-open,
making that which sought to be monistic pain
fully dualistic.

When we come to Body we pass from Exten
sion to Mode, "which" as Spinoza puts it,
" expresses the essence of God, in so far as He is
an extended thing (res extensa), in a certain and
determinate manner." (ll.Def.l.) Extension,
as Attribute, is still infinite, but now in Body as
Mode it becomes finite, divided, determined, and
really is not, according to the metaphysics of
Spinoza, in which all determination is negation.
Yet we shall find here too that the particular

220 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

thing, or the finite realm, vanishes on one side,
and then rises and returns on the other.

The two Modes of Extension already noticed,
Motion and Rest, presuppose the material body
for their manifestation, hence " all bodies are
either in motion or rest " (II. 13 Ax. 1). So it
comes that each body in Motion or at Rest is
determined thereto by another body in Motion
or at Rest, which second body has been deter
mined thereto by still another, and so on indefi
nitely. Thus the physical world presents a very
changeful countenance, which Spinoza seems to
call "the face of the whole universe" (fades
tolius universi, JEpist. 66) ; this term, however,
may include both Attributes, Thought and Ex
tension. But in this totality of all things with
their changes is the infinite Mode which is always
the same. " We may conceive the whole of
Nature to be one individual, whose parts, that
is, all bodies, vary in infinite modes without any
change of the one total individual." Spinoza
says he would unfold this subject more fully, if
he were writing specially on body (II. Lemma 1
Schol. 1 ) . It is plain , however , that he conceives
of the vast changeful multiplicity of Nature as
one internally self -developing totality, the same
beneath all its mutations.

To put now the stress upon the particular
element, we may cite the pivotal Proposition
(V. 24) : ** The more we understand particular

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 221

things, the more we understand God," who is
their " efficient cause " as to both their existence
and essence. So if we grasp the totality of
things as "one individual" self -moving within
itself, or as " the face of the total universe,"
we may see God by the act of intuition (which
is the third stage of knowledge, to be set forth
hereafter) . Herein we observe that the supreme
act of the Intellect is to bring back the separated
particular thing to its unity with the All.

Moreover, Spinoza distinctly marks an ele
ment which is " equally in the part and in the
whole" (oeqiie in parts ac in toto), which is
the unifying principle between the All and its
particulars, or between the Infinite and Finite,
or between Substance and Mode. It is this
element which is " common to all things," and
which is " equally in the part and in the whole,"
which, therefore, has to be "conceived ade
quately," or "represented by an adequate idea
in the mind," if we are to think the world aright
(see II. 38-39). Again Spinoza catches a
glimpse of a very fruitful thought, which would
unify his whole system if carried out completely,
but having taken a peep he drops back into his
dualism. He certainly declares that if the mind
is to reach truth, it must see "that which is
equally in the part and in the whole." To be
sure he does not tell us what this is, nor indicate
that it is a process, nor even remotely hint that

222 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it is the mind's own process. He belongs to the
middle of the 17th century and leaves profound
suggestions which are to be developed by those
philosophers who come after him.

We say that when he seems on the point of
rising out of his contradiction and dualism, and
states the very principle of such a rise, he drops
back and affirms just the opposite. Let us look
at one of his Propositions (II. 37), already
touched upon in the present connection: " That
which is common to all, and which is equally in
the part and in the whole does not constitute the
essence of any particular thing (nullius rei singu-
laris)." Now it seems to us that just the
opposite is the true statement, namely, " that
which is equally in the part and in the whole "
is just the element " which does constitute the
essence of the particular thing," and of all par
ticularity. At the same time it is plain that if
Spinoza had made any such statement, he would
have contradicted the outcome of his entire pre
ceding metaphysical movement, which ends in the
illusory, negative character of the finite or par
ticular world, as the realm of Modes.

So much for the material body in Nature,
which shows the Spinozan characteristic of the
open lapse into, yet the secret return out of,
vanishing finitude. The explicit descent of
Nature into nothingness is counteracted by its
implicit ascent into participation with Substance.

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS.

But now we come to the Human Body with its
Soul, in which field Spinoza develops a dis
tinctive movement of his own.

III. Body (human, with Soul or Mind). The
relation of Body and Soul (the hitter is often
called mens by Spinoza), as a philosophical ques
tion was inherited directly from Descartes.
Body and Mind are correlates, consubstantial.
" The human Mind must perceive all that takes
place in the Body." Spinoza seems to conceive
at first an immediate unity or rather consub-
stantiality between Mind and Body. 'The
human Mind is adapted for perceiving many
things," namely all the modifications of its
Body (II. 14). Thus the Body shows its
nature, since it can stimulate the Mind, indeed
this is what makes the Body human,
idea of any Mode in which the Body is affected
from external bodies, must involve the nature of
the human Body" (II. 16). That is, the
human Body, being stimulated from without finds
an* immediate response in the Mind, which
response is an idea. The human Body is thus a
kind of medium between external bodies and the
idea of them in the Mind. « ' If the human Body
is affected in a manner which involves the nature
of the external body (material), the human Mil
will contemplate this external body as actually
existing or as present to itself " (II. 17).
is Spinoza's view of sense-perception, whic

224 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

brings into the consubstantial process of Body
and Mind the outer world of material objects.
Hence follows an important conclusion: "The
human Mind does not know body itself, not even
that it exists, except through the ideas of that
body's modifications " (II. 19). A great history
lies in this statement, nothing less than the
Kantian Thing-in-itself , of which all knowledge
is denied . Already in Descartes a similar germ of
denial can be found. Both philosophers, how
ever, fall back upon God to vindicate the reality
of the objective world : Descartes upon divine
veracity, Spinoza upon divine Substance in and
through whom " the order of ideas is the same
as the order of things." But when the Eight
eenth Century has undermined this divine inter
ference of the Seventeenth Century, Hume and
Kant will shine forth in all their skeptical glory.
This central position of the human Body, lying
between the idea and the outer material world,
is dwelt upon quite fully by Spinoza (in the Sec
ond Part of his Ethics). It is a fresh elaboration
of the Cartesian doctrine of Body and Soul from
the new standpoint of consubstantiality. The
mediating God between these opposites is no
longer transcendent, outside of them, but imma
nent, within them, and they in Him. As in
Descartes, so in Spinoza, the primary stage of
the human Mind (or Soul) as the ideal correlate
of the human Body belongs to the stage of

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 225

Physics, inasmuch as the latter shows it deter
mined by the Body which is, therefore, his start
ing-point in the present sphere. "The object
of the idea constituting the human mind is the
Body" (II. 13). The Body is the object or
thing (mode of extension) which gives the
primal idea constituting the mind. "Thus we
know the human mind to be not only united to
the Body, but also what is the nature of such
union." " But no one will be able to understand
the mind adequately or distinctly without first
adequately knowing the nature of our Body."
(Do. Schol. ) So the Body furnishes the primal
content of mind, in a manner determining the
same, not directly but through Substance or " in
God." Wherefore it comes that if we would
find out the difference between the Mind and
other things, " it is necessary for us to know the
nature of the Mind's object, namely the human
Body." And in general, "the first element con
stituting the actual existence of the human Mind
is the idea of some particular thing actually ex
isting." (II. 11.) In these passages the drift
is that the human Body comes first, determining
and stimulating the mind to an idea, " which is
a concept of the mind as the thing which thinks
(res cogitans')" (II. Def. 3).

But Mind and Body are wholly separate, hav
ing no direct connection according to Spinoza.

15

226 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Hence the question arises, How can the Body get
to be an object of the Mind, or of an idea?
This carries us back to Substance or God whose
attributes are Thought and Extension. Now
Mind is a mode of Thought, and Body is a mode
of Extension ; of these two modes God is the
essence, cause, source, or the whole of which
they are apart. " Hence it follows that the
human Mind is a part of the infinite intellect of
God. So, when we say the Mind perceives
this or that object, we affirm nothing else than
that God (not in so far as he is infinite, but in so
far as he is unfolded by the nature of the human
Mind), has this or that idea." (II. 11. Cor.)
Perception is, therefore, the act of Mind re
ceiving from God the idea of Body. Yet all this
must take place in God, who does not move the

Mind from the outside to know the Body

which would be to fall back into Cartesianism,
though some of Spinoza's expressions cannot
escape this charge.

Here it is that the principle of consubstan-
tiality plays its part. The human Mind (as a
mode of Thought) and the human Body (as a
mode of Extension) are consubstantial : they
have or share in the common Substance which is
God, who has the two attributes (Thought and
Extension), which are therefore of one Sub
stance (consubstantial). This is Spinoza's
method of getting rid of the external causation

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 227

of God, making the latter immanent, in con
trast to the Cartesians. Body is ideally in the
Mind, and so can stimulate it in and through the
common Substance which causes the idea of
Mind as the correlate of the Body. Mind and
Body thus correspond and are united, but they
can no more interpenetrate than can the obverse
and reverse sides of a coin, whose common
material (also popularly called substance) holds
them indissolubly together.

In general, the Body as a mode of Extension
determines, through God by the principle of
consubstantiality, the Mind as a mode of
Thought. This principle is declared in the
statement, " the order of ideas is the same as
the order of things" (II. 7), the ideas follow
ing the things in and through the common Sub
stance.

But now comes a great change. Spinoza be
gins to speak of '« the idea or cognition of the
Mind ' ' by itself ( II. 20) , or the Mind as self-know
ing, self-conscious. To be sure such an idea < ' fol
lows in God," and is to be referred to God " in
the same manner as was the idea of Body." This
can hardly mean other than that God or Substance
is self-conscious. Moreover " this idea of Mind
is united to Mind in the same way that Mind
is united to Body " (11.21). Mind is thus its
own Body and has its own idea of itself , " in
and through God." Here we see the principle

228 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of consubstantiality passing over into the prin
ciple of Self-consciousness, in which the mind
becomes its own content (or body). " For the
idea of the Mind and the Mind itself are one and
the same thing, conceived under one and the
same attribute, that of Thought." But Spinoza
assigns no such power to Body, namely of turn
ing back upon itself and knowing itself. Here,
then, is the point at which the true separation of
Mind from Body takes place, for Mind bends
around (so to speak) away from Body and takes
up itself. " For as soon as any person knows
anything, he knows that he knows, and at the
same time he knows that he knows that he
knows, et sic in infinitum." (II. 21, /Schol.)
Here Spinoza appeals directly to the self-con
scious Ego as the ultimate. Yet he does this
covertly, as it were, nodding; when he wakes up
fully, the self-conscious act must follow in and
through God. The self-activity of the idea he
also affirms, for we are not to think " the idea
to be something dumb or inactive (mutum) like
a picture on a tablet, but a mode of thinking, the
act of intellect itself." (II. 43, Schol.)

But with this transition of Mind (Ego, Soul)
from consubstantiality to self-consciousness, we
have passed out of the realm of Physics with its
three stages of Extension, of Body as material,
and of Body as human with Mind. In each
of these stages we have watched the secret pro-

SPINOZA. — PHYSICS. 229

cess lurking and working in the abstract, dis
joined formulas of the philosopher forcing his
concrete thought into his geometric mould. At
last we have touched bottom in the long descent
from Substance, and found1 the self -conscious
Mind, whose very nature is self-returning, and
which can now start the grand return and restora
tion to the Supreme One, whence has been the
lapse. That is, we have reached the ethical or
more particularly the psychological stage whose
very essence is the self-conscious Ego. Pro
tracted and possibly tedious has been the philo
sophic flight downwards through Metaphysics and
Physics, since the latter with its basic attribute
of Extension is but an appendage of the former.
But we have struck the mighty recoil of the
Self — wherewith a new movement and a new
world must begin.

It is true that Spinoza does not explicitly
say this, but rather the contrary. " The being
of Substance does not pertain to the essence of
man" for man is but a mode of an attribute
of Substance, and hence two removes from the
latter. He, therefore, has no substantial being,
really no divine participation, since " Substance
does not constitute the form (actuality) of
man." Spinoza uses also the argument that
Substance would have to be divided were it
individualized in men. " There is but one Sub
stance but there are many men," which rnulti-

230 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

plicity makes them insubstantial (see II. Prop.
10, with Scholia and Corollary). Moreover the
activity of the Mind (intellectus actu) in will,
desire, love, must be referred to passive nature
(natura naturata), not to active nature (iialura
naturans or Substance). Indeed there is no
Will as free cause or as self-determined, but
only as determined (I. 31, 32).

Still the mind turns back upon itself, is not
only idea of Body (consubstantial), but is also
idea of mind or idea of idea (self-conscious). It
is true that God determines man to this act,
which can only mean that God determines man
to be self-determined. We may repeat that just
at this point is the grand turn in Spinoza, the
turn from the metaphysical to the psychological
and ethical. Not, however, does he show these
as the two great stages in the process of the
Universe; he has no such process except far
down in his unconscious Self. Hence these
two stages remain explicitly two and thus con
stitute the dualism of Spinoza, and also that of
his Century, and more remotely that of all
Philosophy.

C. ETHICS.

To his chief philosophical work Spinoza gave
the name of Ethics, as if he deemed its essential
character to be ethical in the widest sense. We

SPINOZA. — E THICS. 23 1

hold that this view of his book is correct. Un
doubtedly it has two very marked portions, the
metaphysical and the ethical, which we have
named the descent from Substance to Mode (as
self-conscious individual), and the ascent from
Mode to Substance. Under the first head we
can in a general way place the first two Parts of
the Etliics, under the second head the last three
Parts. This second portion, the ethical, contains
almost twice as much matter as the first, which
fact goes to show where Spinoza placed his chief
stress. To be sure the dividing line cannot be
sharply drawn, the two sides often overlap and
intermingle; still the division holds in the main.
In this connection another curious fact may
be mentioned: the interpreters of Spinoza have
generally emphasized his metaphysical side, and
have thrust into the background or quite left out
his ethical side. Look into the great historians
of Philosophy : they give a very full exposition
of Substance, Attribute, and Mode, dwelling
upon Spinoza's so-called pantheistic view of the
world. But when they come to his ethical side,
their exposition is brief, often confused, and, as
far as our knowledge of them goes, always un-
correlated with the rest of the system. No
single expression about Spinoza has been cited
oftener and with more approval than the com
parison of a celebrated historian of Philosophy
who says that Spinoza's system is a lion's lair

232 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which many footsteps enter, but from which
none are ever seen to emerge. That is true only
of the metaphysical side, but just the opposite is
true of the ethical side, which is just the emerg
ence of the individual from the lion's lair and
the capture of the lion. And Hegel would never
have declared that Spinoza conceives only of
Substance and not of Subject if he had fully
seen and realized the ethical movement of his
great predecessor. In fact the German inter
pretation has chiefly seized upon the metaphysical
(pantheistic) element of Spinoza with a national
predilection. On the other hand certain British
thinkers have begun recently to put stress upon
his ethical side. It would seem that the two
great elements of Spinoza's system divide also
the Teutonic race into its two chief branches, the
one of which dwells upon his absolutistic impe
rial Substance swallowing the individual, the
other of which selects the individual making

D

himself valid by his ethical return to and repro
duction of Substance. Are not these traits true
respectively of the German and Anglo-Saxon,
and also true of their institutions? Still Spinoza
must be seen to have both sides — not one or the
other, but both.

Briefly stated, the content of Spinoza's Ethics
is the return to God. There is no doubt that
we find in his book the ethical sweep upward,
and that this is the chief strength and great-

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 233

ness of it. Herein our philosopher follows the
Norm originating in Plato and Aristotle, both
of whom have a sphere of Ethics which brings
man back to the Idea, or to the Absolute, or to
God. The Neo-Platonists in their system show
the same ethical return to the Supreme One.
The Spinozan form of this return is now what
we are to study with some care and fullness,
as it is the profoundest fact of his Philosophy.
We may again recall to our reader that here
lies the third and completing stage of the pro
cess of the All (the Pampsychosis). Really
Spinoza, the Mode, returns and reconstructs the
God who made him merely Mode.

The ethical movement of Spinoza, as we con
template it in the present connection, shows
three leading stages, the psychical, the moral,
and the institutional, to each of which we shall
devote some details.

I. THE PSYCHICAL ELEMENT. — Already in
Physics the psychical element has been intro
duced under the head of Mind, which Spinoza
represents as consubstantial with Body, the lat
ter being the stimulator or determinant of the
former "in God." But that peculiar power
which the mind has of turning back upon itself
in its own activity (idea mentis, or even idea idem
in Spinoza's terms) is the great act of separation
from the Determined, and the beginning of the
Self-determined. Here, then, is the starting-

234 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

point of Ethics proper, which science, however,
will often have to go back to the unconscious, un-
free, determined state of the mi ad in order to take
its bearings and to grasp consciously its problem.
For this return of the mind upon itself is the
mediating stage of its return to God, which is
the purpose and culmination of the ethical move
ment in Spinoza. " The human mind has an
adequate knowledge of the eternal and infinite
essence of God" (II. 47). Thus the individual
as Mode, being able to know himself " in and
through God after the same manner in which he
knows the human body " (II. 20), goes back in
turn to God, the source of his own self-knowing,
and knows Him " in His eternal and infinite
essence.'* We see here the round of spiritual
existence which hovers before Spinoza in the
present case : If God produces self-conscious man ,
the latter must return to and reproduce God,
This process plays a most important part, usually
under the name of Love: "The intellectual
Love of the mind for God is part of the infinite
Love wherewith God loves Himself " (V. 36).
Thus God is conceived as the infinite process of
Love, of which man with his intellectual Love of
God, is a stage or necessary link whereby " God
loves Himself with an infinite intellectual Love "
(V. 35).

Accordingly we find moving through Spinoza's
work and joining together (though not systematic-

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 235

ally) three psychical stages which represent the
fundamental process of the Mind or Ego, both
huinan and divine. These stages are first the
Mind as unconscious, as moved from without, as
Feeling, Emotion, Passion; secondly the Mind as
moving outwards, determining the world, sepa
rating within and going forth, as Volition, Will;
thirdly the Mind as coming back to itself and
bringing the world along in knowledge, the self-
returning stage, as Intellect, or Understanding
in its general sense. These three divisions,
which we shall call Emotion or Feeling, Will, and
Intellect, are at present recognized as the basis
of all Psychology and will be found to be the
organizing process of Spinoza's ethical world,
though he is always fragmentary and often con
tradictory in his statements pertaining to this
sphere. Still if we put together all the pieces,
we shall behold his psychical doctrine quite fully
elaborated.

1. Emotion (Feeling). Spinoza has devoted
the Third Part of his greatest work, the Ethics
to the Origin and Nature of the Emotions,
which he calls affects of the Mind (a word found
in older English, for instance in Shakespeare).
He specially claims originality in his treatment :
" Nobody, as far as I know, has determined the
nature and power of these affects, nor on the other
hand the ability of the mind for moderating
them." He cannot, however, pass by the work

236 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

done in this field by Descartes, who "believed
the mind to have absolute power over its actions,"
and who sought "to unfold human affects
(passions) into their primary causes " and also
"to point out the way by which the mind can
obtain absolute dominion over the passions."
Now Spinoza does something very similar and
on similar lines. Still he declares his opinion
that Descartes " shows nothing but the subtlety
of his great genius."

This is a curious statement on the part of
Spinoza. The reader if he will compare the
Third Part of the Ethics with Descartes' Pas
sions of the Soul, will find a striking likeness in
thought, purpose, and movement of the two
works ( see some points of comparison on a pre
ceding page ). And Spinoza is here like
Descartes in asserting his exclusive originality.
Spinoza too seems to have no idea that he,
however original he may be, is but a stage in the
grand evolution of Philosophy. He regards his
thought as isolated, purely individual, like unto
itself and unto nothing else, as did also Descartes
in reference to his work. Such a view seems to
the present time not only a mistake in doctrine
but a piece of personal vanity. But we are to
recollect a very significant difference between us
and them : our culture has passed through the
training of the Nineteenth Century, which is,
in the movement of all Philosophy, just the evo-

SPINOZA . - E THICS. 237

lutionary Century. This fact is to be set forth
in its fullness later on, but now we are to note
that evolution, both spiritual and physical, both
Hegel's and Darwin's, has become thoroughly
ingrown in the mental fibre of our period. Very
different in this respect was the Seventeenth and
also the Eighteenth Century. At present it is
only the uncultivated genius who will deem his
idea wholly original and newly descended from
heaven, and will talk like Descartes and Spinoza,
unpretentious as the latter was in most respects.
In his doctrine of Emotion Spinoza starts from
the proposition : " Each particular thing, in so far
as it is in itself, strives to persist in its own
being" (III. 6). For the particular thing is a
mode by which an attribute of God is expressed
in a determinate way, hence it manifests the
power and being of God. Moreover " Nothing
can be destroyed except by a cause which is ex
ternal to itself " (III. 4), for each thing in itself
persists in existence. Still further this quality,
this self-persistence in being " is nought but the
actual essence of the thing itself " (III. 7). It
is evident that in these passages is strongly as
serted the side of the individuality of all exist
ence, its essentiality in contrast to what seemed
its delusive appearance and nothingness, as un
folded chiefly in the First Part of the Ethics,
or the metaphysical portion.

Now we come to a distinction : mind and also

238 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

body have this same principle of self -persistence ;
each "strives to persevere in its own being"
yet in different manners. This difference lies in
the fact that the mind is conscious, while the
body is not. " The mind, in so far it has clear
and distinct ideas (and hence has activity), and
also in so far as it has confused ideas (and hence
has passivity), strives to persist in its being for
an indefinite duration. Of this striving it is con
scious " (III. 9.) We have already noticed that
at this point Spinoza makes his transition out of
the physical (idea corporis) into the ethical
(idea idece). But now we are to see this gen
eral fact of Ethics applied specially to the sphere
of Emotion. Mind as the idea of body modified,
returning upon itself and striving to keep its own
being in the self-conscious act, is Emotion.
Here we have manifestly the following process :
First, the start is made with a modification of
the Body; secondly Mind is determined by the
modified Body to the idea of Body (already set
forth under Physics) ; thirdly, Mind asserts it
self against this determination from without in

o

the self -returning (self-conscious) act. Still in
this last stage the first content (which is Body
modified) remains, yet it no longer merely deter
mines the mind externally, but determines it to
determine itself, that is, to be self-determined,"
" to persist in its own being." Hence we see
that the mind in the preceding process is at one

SPINQZA —ETHICS. 239

stage passive, and at another is active ; wherefore
Spinoza says: " Our mind is partially active, and
is partially passive " ; the former, when it has an
adequate idea, that is, when it has an idea of
itself or is self-conscious; the latter, when it has
an inadequate idea or is merely the idea of body
(see III. 1). Spinoza does not define Emotion
very connectedly in spite of his careful summary
at the end of the Third Part of the Ethics. At
the start he calls it " a modification of the body,"
and also "the idea of such modification " (III.
Def. 3). At the end he says: " Emotion which
is a passivity (pafhema) of the mind, is a con
fused (inadequate) idea," still " the mind affirms
the body's power of existence," wherein it must
be active (see III, at the conclusion).

Putting all these statements together, we may
define Emotion as follows : It is the idea of the
idea of modified body, having an active, a passive,
and an external element in its process. Or we
may say : the external world, determining the
mind to its primal self-determined (self-con
scious) activity, is Emotion. Man in this
emotional stage begins to declare himself
a free being against the determination of his
body, which has also to be present and to be a
part of the process. Emotion is produced by the
struggle of two forms of self -persistence, that of
mind and that of body.

This general thought of Emotion Spinoza

240 MODEEN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

develops into three forms which he calls Desire,
Pleasure, and Pain, in each of which the modified
Body is supposed to stimulate the mind as passive
to " persist in its own being," that is, to be
active and to assert itself, (a) Desire is the sim
ple immediate act of Emotion, as the effort
(conatus) for self-persistence, wherein man is
conscious: "Desire is appetite with the con
sciousness thereof " (III. 9, Schol). Desire is
primal: " We do not desire a thing because we
think it good, but we think it good because we
desire it." In a different statement Spinoza
says: Desire is the mind as determined to think
of one thing rather than another «< through the
body's power of existence." (b) Pleasure is
the "passive condition (passio) in which the
mind moves to a greater perfection" (III. 11,
Schol). Another statement : " Pleasure is that
Emotion or passivity of soul, by which the mind
affirms a greater power of existence of the body "
(III. ad finem), which would seem to mean a
greater perfection (seethe previous passage), (c)
Pain is " the passive condition by which the
mind moves to a lesser perfection," or it is that
" Emotion or passivity of soul by which the
mind affirms a lesser power of existence of the
body." Such are the three different forms of
Emotion in which we see three different modifi
cations of the Body determine the mind as passive
to that activity which is called Emotion.

SPIXOZA . — E THIOS. 24 1

These are the three primary Emotions — De
sire, Pleasure, Pain — - from which Spinoza
educes all the other Emotions by combining them
and further unfolding them in various ways.
For instance, hate and love in their manifold
forms are derived from pain and pleasure
primarily. Thus Spinoza proceeds to give
a treatise on the Emotions, mentioning and
defining each in turn, which exposition takes
up $he\ most of the Third Part of his Ethics.
It is evident that he is following the work of
Descartes on the Passions, who also has his
primary and derived forms. Moreover Spi
noza's Emotion is not so very different from
Descartes' Passion. Both philosophers conceive
the mind or soul as first determined from the
outside by body, and then as determining itself
in a self-conscious act, at which point, however,
Descartes introduces the Will. This with him is
the power of choosing either way, and so can yield
to Passion or to the external determinant, but on
the other hand can subordinate the same through
its own self-determined, self-conscious act.

It is also at this point that Spinoza takes up
the Will which evidently exercised his mind a
good deal. At first he only traverses the posi
tion of Descartes, but at last he will be found
covertly agreeing with his French predecessor,
apparently unconscious of his own evolution.

2. Will. Spinoza's exposition of the Will has
16

242 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

this difficulty: he holds its different stages
apart, sees their opposition, but not their
process. We have already found the same
difficulty in other portions of his book.
He will deny Free-Will, yet will also affirm
Freedom; he will make man's act a part of
nature's chain of causation, yet he will also con
ceive man as responsible for his bondage to nature.
These contradictions he sometimes puts side by
side, apparently without seeing, certainly without
expressly unfolding the total sphere or process of
which they may be valid parts. We, if we are to
understand him fully, have to supply this process
though we are always to recognize it as supplied
by ourselves.

(1) There is no Free-Will. "The mind is
determined to will this or that by a cause, which
is determined by another cause, and this by still
another, and so on in an infinitely regressive
series" (11.48).

The Will cannot be separated from the mind
as "an absolute faculty;" it is always in the
concrete act. "In the mind there is no volition
except that which the idea, as idea, involves"
(II. 49). Hence the corollary: "Will and
Intellect are one and the same." They do not
exist apart from the single act of mind ; so that
"a single volition and a single idea are one and
the same." For the idea is not " like a mute
picture on a tablet" (tabula rasa), but is self-

SPINOZA. —ETHICS. 243

asserting, self -returning (idea idece) through its
own inner activity. In this way Spinoza claims
that he " has removed the cause of error," which
is supposed to lie in the Will (allusion to Des
cartes). All conflicts between Will and Reason
he resolves into a difference between adequate
and inadequate ideas asserting themselves. Man
is but a " part of nature," a link in the grand
concatenation of things.

There is certainly a sphere in which we have
to grant the validity of Spinoza's view. With
every activity of the Intellect is necessarily im
plied Will, otherwise there would be no such
activity. The whole mind — Feeling, Will, and
Intellect — is present in some form in every
special act of Mind. Volition is at least im
plicitly contained in each thought. But is there
no separation of the Will, no distinct activity
of it taken by itself? Often Spinoza uses the
term conatus sese conservandi and other kindred
terms, in order to express the effort of self -per
sistence. This is certainly Will, or self-activity
which asserts itself against external determina
tion.

(2) There is Free- Will but it is in bondage.
Such is the contradiction which Spinoza labors
over in many places, but specially in the Fourth
Part of his Ethics, which is entitled Concerning
Human Bondage. But if there is no Free- Will,
man being simply a part of nature in its endless

244 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

chain of external causation, then there can be no
bondage, which word certainly implies that man
ideally at least, is free. A stone which falls to
the earth by gravitation cannot be said to be
enslaved. Only a free being can be enslaved,
that is, externally determined against his own
nature.

Spinoza often acknowledges this fact. In the
introduction to his Fourth Part of the Ethics he
says in the first sentence : " Man's impotence in
moderating and restraining his Emotions (or Pas
sions) I call bondage." Such language can only
be used of a man as the Free- Will who suffers
himself to be made unfree. Still further: " A
man who is controlled by his Emotions is not his
own master but is in the power of fortune (ex
ternality) which often compels him to follow the
worse when he sees the better." Here is surely
a difference between willing and knowing, be
tween intellect and volition.

So Spinoza has also the separation of the
Will from the Intellect and the possible subor
dination of the latter to the former. But he has
likewise the opposite, the subordination of the
Will to the Intellect or Reason. That is, Will
can have Reason as the content of its activity,
whereby it becomes free.

(3) There is Freedom. . Following the Fourth
Part of the Ethics, whose theme is Human Bond
age, is" the Fifth Part, whose theme is Human

DESCARTES. —PHYSICS. 245

Liberty. This is stated in the title which has
likewise the alternate, the Power of the Intellect.
Here, then, we have again the unity of Intellect
and Will, not in the implicit form as before, but
explicit, complete. Intellect or Reason furnishes
its content to the Will which executes the same in
the deed. This is not the implicit Will which
accompanies every mental act of which we have
above taken note.

Already in the Fourth Part (treating of
Human Bondage) Spinoza reached the free man
and sought to detine him in a number of ways.
" A free man thinks of death least of all; " he
is not determined by fear or hope, he is free of
the dominion of the passions. Moreover the strik
ing statement may be here cited: " The man
who is governed by reason is more free in the
State than in solitude where he obeys himself
alone" (IV. 73). In this we see that Spinoza
strongly affirms institutional freedom as com
pared with merely individual freedom.

In the Will as activity Spinoza places perfec
tion and immortality: " The more of perfection
anything has, the more it acts and the less it
suffers" (V. 40). This activity, however,
Spinoza unites with the Intellect: "The im
mortal part of the mind is the intellect through
which we act" (Do. CoroL), while the perish
able part is the passive, or what is determined
from without. But the supreme attainment of

246 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

freedom is that the individual who was but " a
part of nature " or merely " a link in the chain
of causes" has become not only self -asserting
against such external bondage, but has returned
to the great totality of Nature, to God Himself,
and shares in His process. The mind of man,
once but a mode and determined by the All from
the outside, has risen to a participation in the All
from the inside. This is the highest freedom
and produces that acquiescence of the spirit with
the divine order which constitutes the truly wise
man (or philosopher). Spinoza, however, con
siders this phase more fully under Intellect, to
which we next pass.

3. Intellect. This word is used by Spinoza in
two fluctuating senses, a wider and a narrower.
In the latter the term is applied to the rational
principle in man ; but in the former, which is the
general usage of Spinoza, Intellect means the
sphere of cognition, and embraces all the acts
by which man knows, that is, appropriates men
tally and assimilates the object. It is, there
fore, the third, or self-returning stage in the
total process of mind.

It is evident that Spinoza reflected more upon
Intellect than upon any other faculty of mind.
He was very partial to it, indeed too partial, for
he extends its sphere at the expense of the Will,
in regard to which he had a kind of spite, or at
least a lack of due appreciation. The theoretical

SPINOZA. - ETHICS. 247

sphere in his view enormously overbalances the
practical; which fact he shows in his own ca
reer by his devotion to a contemplative, intellec
tual life. May we not find something Oriental
in this, as distinct from the European stress
upon will-power? At any rate the complete
subordination of the Will to the Intellect, we
might say the complete absorption of the Will
into the Intellect at times, is highly characteristic
of Spinoza's mind.

Of course there are gradations of Intellect or
of Knowledge. Spinoza's great distinction in
this sphere is that of adequate (clear and dis
tinct) and inadequate (partial and confused)
knowledge or ideas. Upon this distinction
chiefly he builds his intellectual structure. Even
the moral principle is located here. " The knowl
edge of good and evil is an inadequate knowl
edge " (IV. 64). All immediate sensuous
experience is inadequate, such as the knowledge
of body. But " all ideas, in so far as they are
referred to God are true," since they agree
wholly with their objects or are adequate
(II. 32).

But what are these varieties of Intellect, or
kinds of knowing? Spinoza employs three main
ones, not, however, with consistency always. In
the «* Improvement of the Intellect" Spinoza
has four ways of " perceiving " or of acquiring
knowledge. But here we shall follow the Ethics,

248 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which repeatedly speaks of three kinds of knowl
edge though in this book too there are places
which seem to suggest other divisions.

1. " I shall call in the future the first kind of
knowledge Opinion, Imagination" (II. 40.
Schol. 2). But this first kind of knowledge
is itself of various grades: that of ''partic
ular things presented confusedly through our
senses," or immediate sensation; then that which
comes from " signs or words heard and read,"
whereby we recall the image of the object. This
act of imaging plays a great part in Spinoza's
psychology. He seems inclined in places to put
both sense-perception and representation under
the one head of imagination, thus forming his
first class of knowledge. Both these activities,
it is true, deal with the image, but in sense-per
ception it is implicit and unconscious, while in
representation it becomes explicit and conscious.
But Spinoza has no such distinction, at least not
as an organizing principle. Sense-perception
and representation are not yet fully differentiated
in his mind notwithstanding some scattered hints.
This entire field of imagination (both sensuous
and representative) is inadequate, perishable, of
the body. " The mind can imagine nothing, nor
even recall things past, except while the body
lasts" (V. 21). Still the mind can transcend
this limitation. " It is possible for the mind to
refer all images of things to the idea of God "

SPINOZA. — E THICS. 249

(V. 14), and thus form adequate ideas of them,
though they be primarily " affects of the body."
For there is " necessarily in God an idea which
expresses the essence of each particular human
body under the form of eternity " (V. 22).
Thus we are brought to one of Spinoza's most
famous and pivotal statements, sub specie eterni-
tatis. When we come to know the particular
under the form of eternity, we have reached
adequate ideas, wherewith we pass to the second
stage of knowledge.

2. This is called Reason by Spinoza, and brings
us into the realm of truth out of falsehood.
"Knowledge of the first kind is the one only
cause of untruth, while knowledge of the second
kind (and third) is necessarily true " (II. 41).
Reason perceives the necessity of things ; but
this necessity of things is the very necessity of
God's eternal nature in which reason partici
pates. " To see things under a certain form of
eternity" is the nature of Reason, which there
fore sees " those things which are common to all,
and which are equally in a part and in the whole ' '
(II. 39). Reason rises to the universal and
eternal element in the particular thing, which
contains also the essence of God. It may do so
through inference or reasoning. " Whatever
ideas in the mind follow from ideas which are
adequate are themselves adequate" (II. 40).

Still Reason as here defined simply attains the

250 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

common or universal from the given particulars.
But can the mind reach the point of seeing the
universal create its particulars, behold God mak
ing the world, or the infinite becoming finite?
Spinoza answers yes, though he contradicts his
entire metaphysical doctrine of Substance in such
a response. This brings us to the third kind of
knowing.

3. Spinoza calls it Intuition (scientia intui-
tiva), which he somewhat stiffly defines as " the
Knowledge which proceeds from an adequate idea
of the formal essence of certain attributes of
God, to the adequate knowledge of the essence
of things." This terminology is highly Spino-
zan, describing that vision or intuition of God
or Substance, as it moves through the attribute
to the mode which is the particular thing, wherein
our knowledge as Intuition follows after and
takes up the divinely creative process, as set forth
in the metaphysical portion (see preceding, p.
192). For every particular thing participates in
the divine Substance, hence " the more we know
particular things, the more we know God" (V.
24) . And we can know Him, " for the human
mind has an adequate knowledge of the infinite
and eternal essence of God" (II. 47). And
" as all things are in God and conceived through
God," we are able to form adequate ideas of
these things, to see them under the form of
eternity, which is to see them creatively. This

SPINOZA . — E TBICS. 25 1

is Intuition proper which first grasps the original
absolute One and thence moves along with its
world-creating energy to the Many, to the par
ticular things which make up the phenomenal
universe. Such is the unity immanent in and
imparting itself to all multiplicity, for each par
ticular thing though determined from without by
other particular things, perseveres in its own
being, which fact is its very essence coming from
the eternal and necessary essence of God. And
the human mind with its intuitive power, can
seize this essence of the thing coming from the
essence of God.

Thus Spinoza endows the human mind with
the power of returning to God and of re-enact
ing His creative act of producing the Universe.
The individual is no longer a fleeting, insub
stantial, unreal mode, but has within himself
the divinely creative process of the One and the
Many, which process he goes through mentally
in o rder to know each particular thing, placing
it by Intuition under the form of eternity.

Such is the complete sweep of Intellect or of
the movement of Knowledge with its three stages,
starting with Imagination which deals with the
particular as immediately given, then rising to
Reason which sees the universal, or that which
is " equally in the part and in the whole," and
finally attaining Intuition which seizes all things
in their generative principle, and so gets back of

252 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

and creates the starting point of Intellect, which
was the particular thing as immediately given in
Imagination.

Moreover the entire psychical element in
Spinoza, embracing the far larger process com
posed of Emotion, Will, and Intellect is herewith
brought to a conclusion. How these three
stages of the total mind will rise out of their
subordinate position in Spinoza and other phi
losophers, and take the place of Philosophy itself,
unfolding it into a new discipline of thought and
furnishing the very process of all science, even
that of Philosophy, belongs to a chapter far
ahead. But it is instructive to observe the bud
present and starting to burst in the work of the
Jewish philosopher, in whom the psychical
process (the Psychosis), manifests a striking
phase in its evolution. For this reason we have
unfolded this element with a fullness somewhat
disproportionate to the general scope of our
task.

But now for the transitional point to our next
sphere : . " The supreme effort of mind (summus
conatus) and the supreme virtue (summa virtus)
is to know things by this third kind of knowl
edge " (V. 25). With such a conception of
virtue which man strives to realize in life we have
entered the realm of morality in the Spinozan
sense.

II. THE MORAL ELEMENT. — Here again the

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 253

reader is to note that the Moral is a stage or
phase of the Ethical, the latter including the
total process of man's return to God, or to Sub
stance in the Spinozan sense. We have just
seen the psychical return which culminates in
man's knowing the process of God through intel
lectual intuition (a term afterwards used by
Schelling). But now we are to behold the moral
return which culminates in the intellectual Love
of God. The moral problem is the problem of
the individual manifesting the divine essence not
only in his mind or intellect but particularly in
his life and conduct. Love now is not merely
the seeing God, but the being God; Love
reproduces the divine process in the man
practically as well as theoretically; thus in
a sense God becomes man, is or may be
incarnated in every living person (without the
mediation of Christ in the present case, for Spi
noza was still a Jew and so was naturally loth to
acknowledge the only Jew greater than himself
and who suffered somewhat like himself from his
own race). So it results that when the Divine
Process is taken up into the man, and is made
his very essence, he has attained complete free
dom, as far as this can be attained by the indi
vidual in himself; externality is morally within
him, no longer outside of him and determining
him.

The moral element manifests several stages in

254 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Spinoza, which as usual are held apart and pre
sented in the form of isolated propositions, after
the geometric procedure . Being thus given with
out any inner movement, they seem deeply con
tradictory. In our exposition we shall try to put
these separate stages together in such a manner
that their process, namely, that which brings them
into unity both with themselves and with the
mind seeking to understand them, will be at least
suggested. In this process of the moral element
in man, he will show not only the assertion of
himself but also the submission of himself, and
finally his complete self-determination.

1. Self-assertion. This is one of Spinoza's
salient doctrines, often reiterated by him in
diverse connections. ** By virtue and by power I
mean the same thing " (IV. Def. 8). Virtue is
primarily man's power of self-persistence (per-
severandi in suo esse), as it is the essence in every
particular thing. " The effort of self-preserva
tion is the first and sole foundation of virtue."
44 No virtue can be conceived prior to this one "
(see IV. 22, Dem. et CoroL). The good is
what I know to be useful to me, and the bad is
what hinders any such good (IV. Def. 1 and 2).
Herein Spinoza certainly puts strong emphasis
upon the individual, upon the egoistic element of
human nature, which is often at the present time
expressed as the will-to-live.

But now comes something very different, in-

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 255

deed opposite. This power of self-persistence
both in man and in the thing " is the power of
God or of Nature" (IV. 4. Dem), and this
power is also «« the essence of God." Man's
will-to-live is, therefore, the Divine in Man.
Thus each individual asserts himself divinely
against other individuals asserting themselves
with same divine right of individuality. This
gives a universe in struggle.

Another point must be added: «• The power
by which a man persists in his being is limited
and is infinitely surpassed by the power of ex
ternal causes " (IV. 3), which come from the
rest of the world asserting itself. Thus man is
determined from without or through Emotion
(Passion) which he has to meet and suppress for
the sake of his inner moral freedom. Still we
are not to forget that this conflict has come
through man's assertion of himself as his divine
essence, hence as his primal moral act.

In the foregoing statements we find a move
ment which runs as follows: (1) Self-assertion
as immediate, the first right of the individual to
be himself, and nothing else and nobody else.
Here is the starting-point of morality, according
to Spinoza. (2) But this self-assertion is not
only immediate, but God-given, not only man's
essence, but God's essence in man, has not only
a human but a divine right, is not merely self
ishness but is selfhood, is the universal in the

256 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

individual. (3) Thus each individual is divinely
endowed with self-assertion against all others,
who are likewise self-asserting, and the world of
conflict opens in which the individual would lose
his freedom and indeed would perish, unless he
could elevate himself, or rather humble himself
into a new moral sphere.

2. /Self -submission. In the world of conflict
to which the Self-assertion of the individual has
led, he finds himself completely overwhelmed by
the outside powers; for " his force of persisting
in his own being is infinitely surpassed by the
force of external causes" (IV. 3). In some
manner he must yield and submit himself to the
course of circumstances which is that of grim
necessity. Yet out of this necessity he is to win
not only life but freedom. The manifestation
of this necessity or external determination in
him is Emotion (or Passion) ; the outside power
drives him to a re-action against it, which is
essentially passionate. This is what he must
get rid of by the moral discipline of self -sub
mission, which is, in general, to submit himself
to God, or to the divine order of things. In
such a discipline there is likewise a movement of
which we may observe the following stages : —

(1) The mind primarily controls itself as
Emotion by the act of self -consciousness.
When the Ego in passion can simply think of
itself in passion, it is far on the way of curbing

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 257

its passion. It beholds its passionate self as
another, as an object different from itself which
object it is looking at. Thus it others its pas
sion and throws it off as something not itself, or
transforms it into something which is itself.
Such is the primal " rernedj for the Emotions,"
which is the clear and distinct idea of them.
" An Emotion which is a passion ceases to be a
passion as soon as we form a clear distinct idea
of the same " (V. 3). As soon as we turn upon
it and see what it is, it no longer controls us, but
we control it and can subordinate it or can still
give way to it consciously, in which last case we
become the more depraved. But if we subor
dinate the passions to reason, we fill them with a
new purpose and transform them into the
bearers of the Divine.

(2) The mind controls itself as Emotion,
when it beholds itself in the necessary order of
things. Man, recognizing his place in the grand
totality of the universe, ascends to God for his
view, and acquiesces in his lot. "In so far as
the mind recognizes all things as necessary, it
possesses greater power over its Emotions, or
suffers less from them" (V. 6). This is the
stoical phase of Spinoza's morality, but we must
remember that it is not the only phase. If he
has resignation, he also has self-assertion and
self-determination. The self-submission to a
necessary and unchanging order is the relief
17

258 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

from the Emotion which is stimulated by the
particular things in that order. We must rise to
the thought that the causing object is necessi
tated, is not an independent self -active some
thing, even if it have the power of self-
persistence.

(3) Thus we can moralize all our Emotions,
wheeling them into the line of the universal
order, which is to subordinate them to reason.
When the Emotion has the inadequate idea as its
content, it is passionate ; but when it has
the adequate idea as its content, it is
rational, truly ethical (see IV. 59. SchoL).
" We must seek, as far as possible, to
obtain a clear and distinct idea of every
Emotion" in order to free it of its external
particular cause, and to fill it with its rational
end, whereby 4< appetites and desires which
usually spring from, Emotions will become in
capable of excess " (V. 4. SchoL). So Spinoza
shows the way in which we may transfigure our
whole emotional world by this self-submission to
the divinely necessary order of things. In such
" acquiescence of the spirit" we make ourselves
a part of God's process, but by this very act we
also make God's process a part of ourselves.
Thus through self-submission to the necessity of
the divine order, we have disciplined our
Emotion into an ethical character, and made

SPINOZA. ~ ETHICS. 259

necessity internal, wherewith we pass to a new
stage.

3. Self-determination. This is the culmina
tion and conclusion of the moral movement in
Spinoza, expressed in a term of Will which, in
general, signifies complete inner freedom. But
this state must have a corresponding activity of
Intellect which has to know God, the world and
itself in the highest way. " The supreme effort
of mind and the supreme virtue is to know things
by the third kind of knowledge " (V. 25). This
third kind of knowledge we have already seen to
be Intuition, "from which springs the highest
possible form of acquiescence " (V. 27), in
which statement we may note the hint that
Spinoza's acquiescentia mentis may be of various
kinds or grades. But Spinoza has also an emo
tional term to express the present stage, Love or
the Love of God, to which he joins the adjective
intellectual, indicating the relation of this Love
to Intellect, and to its faculty of Intuition, which
transfigures the immediate Emotion of Desire
into THE INTELLECTUAL LOVE OF GOD. This is
justly considered the supreme attainment, both
in a practical and a theoretical aspect, of
Spinoza's Philosophy. It is also to be observed
that the whole man as Emotion, as Will, and as
Intellect, now unites himself in one all-embrac
ing return to God, in passion, in action, and in
thought.

260 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Moreover, it is in this connection that Spinoza
introduces his doctrine of immortality. " The
intellectual Love of God, which arises from the
third kind of knowledge is eternal" (V. 23),
and makes the mind eternal which has it, by its
power of seeing all things " under the form of
eternity." There is also an immortal human
body. " In God there is necessarily an idea
which expresses the essence of each human body
under the form of eternity" (V. 22), which is
not, therefore, perishable. The consubstan-
tiality of mind and body makes the latter also
of the divine and eternal Substance. Each of
them, mind and body, has a mortal and immortal
part in correspondence. Imagination (in mind)
and externality (in body) are vanishing, unreal,
illusory, both of them. Yet both mind and
body have their essence in God, and so must
endure. Thus Spinoza conceives a kind of bodily
immortality, an eternity incorporate.

In the present sphere there is also a movement
with its distinctive stages which are separately
given by the author in his geometric fashion, but
which we shall try to connect together by their
underlying thought.

(1) God loves Himself. This is declared
directly: "God loves Himself with an infinite
intellectual Love" (V. 35). He turns back
upon Himself and sees Himself in his infinite
perfection which he loves. In this manner God

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 261

is conceived as the process of the Absolute Self,
making Himself an object to Himself and re
turning into Himself " in Love." This can
only mean that God is a self-conscious Ego, to
which thought Spinoza has now risen, for such
a conception of God does not correspond with
what he says elsewhere.

(2) Man loves God. His Love toward God
is that same intellectual Love with which God
loves Himself, in so far as this infinite Love can
be made finite, " or in so far as it can be un
folded through the essence of the human mind
considered under the form of eternity " ( V. 36 ) .
Man's love toward God is " a part of the infinite
Love with which God loves Himself." So God
grants Man to share in the infinite process of
Himself.

" Hence it follows that God, in so far as
He loves Himself loves Man and also that God's
Love of Man and Man's Love of God are one and
the same " (V. 36 CoroL) ; that is, both these
Loves corning from the extremes of the Uni
verse, from God and Man toward each other,
form the one divine process of the All. It is
evident that in this process Man has become not
only a part but an essential part of God Himself.
So we reach the following thought : —

(3) God loves Himself through loving Man
who loves Him. So Man has to return in Love
to God, in order to fulfill the cycle of divine

262 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Love, of which Man has become a necessary
stage just through his Love of God as this pro
cess. He, though a part, has in himself the
whole of that process of which he is a part, and
so he is an integral member of the divine order.
Already we have seen in another connection that
"those things which are equally in a part and
in the whole cannot be conceived otherwise than
adequately " (II. 38). Man is a part, God is the
whole, intellectual Love is common to both, is
in both, whereby each has the same process in
which both are included. That, is both con
stitute one process, which is nevertheless in each
wholly. To be sure, Spinoza does not speak of
a process in this matter, nor does he explicitly
grasp intellectual Love as a process. Still it
moves from Man to God and from God to Man,
embracing both, and also in each. This certainly
involves a process, in fact just the process of the
All, which we have called the Pampsychosis,
here and elsewhere lurking in the movement of
Philosophy.

God, in this final stage of Spinoza, has des
cended into man, has become Man, whose
essence He is through intellectual Love. Thus
Man has attained his supreme self-determination,
God being within him as his own very self. God
completes himself in Man who returns in Love
to God within himself.

The Moral Element, or the second genera]

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 263

stage of Spinoza's Ethics, has now brought itself
to a conclusion. This stage, as conceived by
Spinoza, turns on the separation between the
individual and God, and shows the discipline of
the former into harmony and unity with the
latter. First the individual asserts himself in
order to exist, which throws him into conflict
with the grand totality of things; secondly the
individual submits himself, subduing passion and
making himself a link in the great Whole outside

o o

of him, suffering and so mastering the external
determination of the world through which he
finally comes to determine himself, having within
him now the Whole of which he was but a part
outside, attaining such a condition through the
intellectual Love of God. This condition is man's
supreme happiness, called by Spinoza Blessed
ness (JBeatitudo), which «* is not the reward
of virtue, but virtue itself" (V. 42, the last
Proposition in Spinoza' s Ethics). Moreoverthis
state of Blessedness is attainable by man here
and now upon this earth, and is not relegated to
a future life.

Thus the individual instead of being lost in
God, as he seemed to be in the metaphysical
portion, now has God in himself, as his own
essence. Substance before swallowed him, but
now he has just about swallowed Substance.
Such is the enormous difference between the be
ginning and the end of Spinoza's Ethics, a chasm

264 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

as wide as the universe, as great as that between
God and Man. Has Spinoza bridged it? Was
it even his purpose to bridge it? At any rate
here lies the Spinozan dualism, certainly the
deepest of his century .

Often there is a direct contradiction in state
ments quite close together. In the Fifth Part
(Pr. 17) he declares that God is without love,
and a little later (Pr. 19) that " the man who
loves God cannot seek to have God love him in
return." This is true of Spinoza's metaphysical
God or of Substance. But his ethical God who
appears in the same Fifth Part a few pages
further on, is just the opposite, loving man with
the same love which He has for Himself (V. 36
OoroL). What does such a flat contradiction
mean? In our judgment Spinoza's Etliics is
made up of doctrines* formed at two different
periods of the philosopher's development, and
are represented on the whole by th e metaphysical
and the ethical portions of the book. It is well
known that the Etliics was published after the
author's death, and doubtless did not receive his
final revision. The two preceding contradictory
passages belong to two different periods of Spi
noza's thought, which we have called the meta
physical and the ethical.

Though we have reached the end of the book
called Etliics, this is not the end of the total
ethical movement in Spinoza. The individual

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 265

has attained Blessedness essentially through him
self, and it is his oWn. The intellectual love of
God is a moral act, a personal development, of
course with divine co-operation. But what about
the fellow-man? In one proposition occurs the
following: "The Love of God is the more
fostered the more men we conceive to be joined
with God in the same bond of Love " (V. 20).
So we desire that " all should have this happi
ness," which is reached by the study of Spi
noza's philosophy. Such a principle of union
could hardly produce more than a religious
fraternity or a philosophical school. From it
the great institutions of the world have not
sprung.

Yet Spinoza had his eye upon these institutions
even in his Ethics. Over and over again he
speaks of the advantages of human association.
Says he: " To man nothing is more useful than
man ; nothing is more excellent for self-preser
vation than that all should agree in all things to
the extent that the minds and bodies of all should
constitute one mind as it were, and one body for
the purpose of striving to preserve their being "
(IV. 18, ScJwl.). This " one mind and one
body " hasasits end the conservation of the indi
vidual's existence, or, as we say, to secure life
and property. But Spinoza does not develop
this idea of the institution, nor could he with his
doctrine of the Will, which according to his view

266 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

is quite swallowed up in the Intellect. The
union of all into " oneinindandone body " is the
union of thought and power, of Intellect and
Will ; but this union is really for the purpose
of willing the individual's Will-to-live (conatus
sese conservandi ) . Herewith we catch a glimpse
of the institutional principle rising out of and
supplementing the moral element, which is
essentially individual even at its very highest
point in the intellectual Love of God. This
glimpse will guide to the next great field or por
tion of Ethics cultivated by Spinoza.

III. THE INSTITUTIONAL ELEMENT. — In the
Fourth Part of his Ethics our philosopher gives
quite a little dissertation on the Free Man, to
whose characteristics he devotes a number of
Propositions with their adjuncts. He evidently
has before his mind the Stoic pattern of the
Wise Man, who has become internally free
through reason, and who has transformed his
moral life according to its behests.

Finally, in the last Proposition of this Fourth
Part, Spinoza gives us something of a surprise
by introducing a new element: " The man who
is guided by reason is more free in the State
where he lives under a common law, than in
solitude where he obeys ®nly himself" (IV. 73).
This declaration has in the highest degree an in-
stitutional purport as distinct from the moral view
of man as individual. Here association is the

SPINOZA — ETHICS. 267

principle, with the subsumption of the individual
under the decree (or Will) of the social Whole.
Thus man can become more free than by living
alone, more free by obeying objective law than
by following his own subjective caprice, out of
which the Moral Element as such never com
pletely rises. " The rational man in so far as
he seeks to live in freedom, desires to live the
common life according to the laws of the State "
(Ditto Dem.). Thus Spinoza emphatically de
clares that true freedom is only to be obtained
through the civil Institution.

O

At this point he substantially drops the sub
ject from his Ethics. Yet much remains to be
unfolded. If the rational man finds true free
dom only in the State, then this institution must
be a chief means for his attaining the intellectual
Love of God, which certainly cannot be reached
by the unfree man. The State, therefore, (and
with it the whole institutional world) ought to be
shown as a necessary stage in man' s complete return
to God. Blessedness comes through freedom, and
freedom as real comes thro ugh the State (and other
institutions). The ethical movement as a whole
should have the institutional element as an integral
part of itself, otherwise there is a gap or rather
a lack of connection in the total process of the
philosophical Norm.

This lack of connection is found in Spinoza's
scheme. He has two great institutional works,

268 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the Political Treatise, and the Theologico-Poli-
tical Treatise (see the contents of both given
under the head of Spinoza's Writings). But
these two works are not organically conjoined with
the Ethics, though their general connection is cer
tainly suggested. The above hint regarding man's
freedom involves a discussion of State, Church
and Society in order to complete the Ethics as
a totality. But Spinoza concludes his book with
the supreme moral attainment, the virtue called
Blessedness, or the intellectual Love of God,
which is reached through the individual without
the aid of institutions.

It is our opinion that Spinoza was working at
this problem of the inner connection of his
system when he died at the age of 44 years.
The various parts of his philosophy had grown
piecemeal out of that ideal totality of his spirit
which was as yet unexpressed though gradually
developing. The result is Spinoza's philosophic
edifice appears before us as composed of vast
fragments, from which, however, we can catch
the outlines, even if vague in places, of the
mighty Whole, nothing less than an intellectual
construction of the Universe. His early death
prevented completion, for the philosopher rarely
if ever reaches his supreme architectonic develop
ment till he is in the fifties.

The serious reader, coming to love Spinoza's
personality, and dwelling in contemplation upon

SPINOZA — ETHICS. 269

his incomplete edifice, will long to fill out men
tally the parts that are wanting, particularly this
institutional part. The following suggestions
may help him rear some of the missing portions
of the structure: —

1 . We must first consider Spinoza as holding
to the immediate unity of Church and State.
This is distinctly his primal Jewish inheritance,
the theocrac}s which, however, belongs to the
whole Orient. The title of his early work,
Theologico- Political Treatise, indicates this fact
(see the preceding discussion of it p. 153 et seq.) ,
The institutional movement of Spinoza is toward
separation of Church and State. Hence the
following: —

2 . In the Political Treatise we have an expo
sition of the State without its ecclesiastical
counterpart, as the title indicates (see the discus
sion of this work beginning on p. 164).

3. There are allusions to Education and faint
outlines of the Educative Institution scattered
through Spinoza's books. A school of pupils and
followers began to gather around him early in his
career ; he deemed it among the highest f unc
tions to be engaged in " so training men that
they come at last to live under the dominion of
their own reason " (IV. App. 9). The follow
ing passage from the Improvement of the Intellect
shows how deeply Spinoza was impelled to im
part his philosophy : "This, then, is the end for

270 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which I strive: first to attain an harmonious
nature, 'and then to assist many others to attain
it with me." Such is the true spirit of the
teacher: "it is a condition of my own happi
ness that many others may know as I know."
Nor is this work done at random: " We must
form such a society as will enable men in general
to attain it in the easiest way. To this end we
are to study Moral Philosophy," in which Spi
noza's Ethics may have been written as a text
book. Also " The Theory of Education " is to
be studied, along with Medicine and the Physical
Sciences. Such is a brief outline of Spinoza's
ideal school which had one supreme end: " to
reach that highest human perfection which
we have designated." This comes through
the improvement and education of the Intellect
till it can behold all things " under the form of
eternity." Spinoza had around himself all his
life a school of this sort, private indeed, but con
stituting a small band of zealous disciples who
kept his apostolate alive long after his death
and published his books. What else means that
posthumous edition of his works printed only a
few months after he had died almost penniless?
4. Of one other kind of association or institu
tion we catch a glimpse in Spinoza: *« The Love
of God is the more fostered, the greater the
number of men we conceive to be joined with
God in the bond of Love " (V. 20). A passing

SPINOZA. — ETHICS. 271

glimpse is this of Theopolis, the City of God,
which Leibniz will somewhat more fully set
forth as the conclusion of his Philosophy. But
Spinoza has the germ of this final association of
men joined together in the supreme institution,
the Church Universal, through the common Love
of God.

Here, then, we bring to an end the Philosophy
of Spinoza, whose deepest fact, as we see it, is
its double or dualistic character : its descent on
the one side from Substance to Mode, meta
physical, pantheistic, at bottom negative; then
its ascent on the other side from Mode to Sub
stance or God, ethical, theistic, at bottom posi
tive. Already we have sufficiently emphasized
this Spinozan dualism as representing the pro-
foundest struggle of the Seventeenth Century in
its political, religious, and social history.

But now we approach the third great philoso
pher of this Century, Leibniz, whose supreme
philosophic function is to harmonize the dualism
of Spinoza, out of whom he directly grows. It
is, therefore, characteristic of Leibniz that he
leaves out the descent and starts immediately
with the ascent; the Spinozan Mode he trans
forms into the Leibnizian Monad, putting into
the same the principle of Substance. It is true
that Spinoza had already brought his Mode back
to its fountain-head of Substance, so that it be
came an integral element of the Divine Process.

272 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

Thus we may say that Leibniz begins where
Spinoza leaves off, namely with the Mode de
veloped out of itself into the Monad, which
Leibniz himself calls at first a form of Substance
or substantial form. And we shall also find the
consubstantial doctrine of Spinoza's Attribute
passing over into the Leibnizian Pre-established
Harmony. We shall likewise see Leibniz de
veloping, clarifying, and universally applying
that element which Spinoza dimly saw as
" equally in the part and in the whole." Finally,
the power of self-persistence (pereverandi in
suo esse) is modal in Spinoza, but becomes
monodal in Leibniz. Such is the significant
evolution which we are next to trace in the third
member of the great tri-personal movement of
the Philosophy of the Seventeenth Century.

LEIBNIZ.— LIFE. 273

3*

The career of Leibniz falls into the latter part
of the Seventeenth Century, and runs over into
the Eighteenth. This period witnessed the great
culminating struggle between what may be called
Absolutism and Individualism, and our Philos
opher reflects, of course in his way the spirit of
the age. The very year he arrived at Paris,
Louis XIV., the political and religious absolutist,
was throwing his troops into the Netherlands for
another fierce attack upon the liberty there in
trenched. He was seeking to do what Spain had
utterly failed to accomplish in the preceding cen
tury. It was another attempt of Latin Europe to
wrest the scepter of temporal and spiritual dom
ination from Teutonic Europe, to which it had been
gradually passing. The great conflict of the
Thirty Years' War in Germany, which lay chiefly
between the Latin and the Teutonic religions,
had ended in a peace which recognized the rift,
and really had made it perpetual. That same
peace left Germany a cluster of separate States,
political atoms, or in Leibnizian phrase, Monads.
Such is the main European situation which lies
back of our philosopher and determines his
work.

Leibniz was a Teuton, and philosophized the
18

274 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL O SOPHY.

Teutonic side, with its individualistic bent on the
one hand, yet on the other with the effort to
bring order and harmony out of these atomic
struggles. Hence the n^etaph^si^al portion of
Leibniz' Philosophy will have two main categories,
quite opposite if not contradictory : the Monad
and Pre-established Harmony, or the individual
in his own separate little world (microcosm)
and also in the great total scheme of the universe
(macrocosm). Spinoza's God in His meta
physical aspect was an all-devouring Cronus, in
whom the individual was but a fleeting appear
ance, a phantasm which had no reality. Herein
Spinoza gives a true reflection of one mighty
tendency of the time, which was also the Seven
teenth Century. This was the tendency to
absolutism, which like a monster of legend,
opened its prodigious mouth to swallow little
Holland, the supreme bearer of personal liberty.
Such is the first stress of Spinoza, though he has
also a second and different stress; Leibniz, how
ever, puts his first stress upon the opposite
principle, the individual, the Monad, and moves
in the opposite direction, toward authority,
toward * * the Monad of Monads ' ' which is the
highest.

In general we may conceive the philosophy of
Leibniz to start with the Monad as the given
thing and to show its movement toward the
Supreme One which does not destroy it, but
I

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 275

/preserves it in its integrity, and harmonizes it
(_with the rest of the Monads. The whole ex
hibits the grand flight of the independent,
mutually repellent Monads towards a centfal
authority which keeps them in order. This was
the living Teutonic problem, especially of Prot
estant Teutonia after she had cut loose from the
old Church and Empire, from the transmitted
institutions. Leibniz during his long and busy
life will work at this problem in quite all of its
essential phases, being himself a Monad trying
to bring order into a monadal universe, yet
always by his very nature dropping back into
Monadism .

It is no wonder, then, that his philosophy is
called a Monadology, or science of the Monads,
he himself being the creative Monad in his
scheme. Hence we may expect that the man
Leibniz, in all the three main phases in which
we may regard him, in his Life and Writings, as
well as in his Philosophy, will be monadal,
wherein he will strikingly represent his country
and his age in their innermost spirit and
essence.

I. LIFE OF LEIBNIZ. — In contrast with the
simple, retired life of Spinoza, that of Leibniz
is very diversified. The latter was a public man
all his active years, as well as a scholar. He had
two streams of existence, practical and theoreti
cal, rushing through him, often parallel, often

276 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

intercrossing and cutting up his activity into
fragments. This condition, however, was not
an accident, but lay in his own deepest nature.
To our inind the central stage of his philo
sophic development is the Hanoverian Period,
which includes chiefly his middle life, and during
which he was slowly unfolding his fundamental
thought. Of course there is a Period before and
a Period after this middle one.

It is doubtless something of a problem to grasp
the events of Leibniz' life in such a way as to
show their true meaning as well as their connec
tion with the time. Externally his career is full
of manifold changes — changes of place , of occupa
tions, of opinions and thoughts. We may well say
that his life is monadal, made up of little centers
of effort of all sorts, yet constituting an order,
or at least striving for the principle of an order.
Such, too, is his character, a continual explosion
of single thoughts into deeds and words.

1. First Period (1646-1676). Gottfried
Wilhelm Leibniz was born at Leipzig on the
21st day of June, 1646, two years before the
Peace of Westphalia which left Germany in its
monadal condition, morally as well as politically
and religiously. In such an ethical world Leib
niz grew up, and could not help imbibing its
character.

In his fifteenth year he began his studies at the
University of Leipzig and worked in philosophy,

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 277

jurisprudence, and mathematics. It is significant
that his first printed dissertation should treat of
the Principle of the Individual, being written in
Latin and showing considerable philosophic eru
dition. His next important production is quite
a lengthy mathematical treatise (De Arte Com-
binatoria) . There is no doubt that Leibniz was
a precocious youth, especially in his power of
reading many books, and these often of very
abstruse contents. Leipzig, however, refused
him a degree, which he obtained at the Univer
sity of Altdorf , where he was offered a profes
sorship. This he declined, doubtless feeling it
to be unfavorable to his free, full development in
science. We recollect that Spinoza also refused
such a place, from which Descartes likewise held
himself aloof. The three great philosophers of
the Seventeenth Century, were not, therefore,
University Professors.

After various experiences Leibniz became as
sociated with Baron von Boineburg (1667), wrote
several tracts pertaining to jurisprudence, and
advocated a more general use of the German
tongue in legal business. He tried to bring
about an internal alliance of the small German
States, and to raise some kind of bulwark against
the ambition of Louis XIV. To this monarch
he addressed a memorial suggesting an expedition
to Eorypt in order to divert him from his attack
upon Holland, and to point out the importance

278 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of conquering Mohammedan Turkey. But the
crusading spirit was dead, and Louis had other
schemes closer at home. Still the French king
seemed for a while to entertain the thought, or,
as is more likely, was entertained by it; so he
graciously permitted Leibniz to appear at Paris,
and to present his scheme in person.

For more than four years (from March, 1672,
till December, 1676) Leibniz was absent from
Germany, spending most of the time in Paris,
which city he evidently liked. His political
mission was a total failure from the start ; he
must have seen the French armies moving in the
direction of Holland as he journeyed toward the
capital. With the greater intensity he threw
himself upon Natural Science, Mathematics, and
Philosophy. He studied Descartes afresh and
became acquainted with French Cartesians of
distinction like Arnauld; it is highly probable
that he found out something about Spinoza's
doctrines through the latter 's friend, Tschirn-
hausen. But the great event of his stay at Paris
was his invention of the Differential Calculus,
which was claimed by Newton and Newton's
friends. The result was a controversy about
priority, which has not wholly ceased at the
present day. He also learned the use of the
French tongue to such perfection that it became
his chief philosophic vehicle. The fact is that
Leibniz in a number of ways Gallicised, in striking

LEIBNIZ. - LIFE. 279

contrast with the Frenchman Descartes, who ran
away from France and Paris, which produced in
him unreal phantoms, according to his own
statement.

But Leibniz, apparently for financial reasons,
could no longer remain at Paris. His friend
Boineburg had died, and it was necessary to seek
a new position. He could not live in philo
sophic retirement like Spinoza, but longed for a
court with its external life and ceremony. By
way of England where he did not see Newton,
and through Holland where he saw Spinoza, he
returned to Germany about the close of the
year 1676, with his years of learning and appro
priation (Lehrjahre) passing over into a time
of inner elaboration and original effort. Paris
was the important turning-point; in Physics
certainly and doubtless in Metaphysics he had
begun to rise out of Descartes into a new stage,
and in Mathematics he had made a permanent
contribution to the science.

Philosophically we may consider his visit with
Spinoza in Holland as the time of his transition
from his First into his Second Period, though this
transition had already started at Paris where
Cartesianisrn had pushed beyond itself, devel
oping its inherent pantheistic tendency. In 1675,
the year before Leibniz quit Paris, the Cartesian
Nicolas Malebranche had published his Recherche
de la Verite, in which he maintains that "the

280 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

mind dwells in God, thinks in God, sees in God.'9
Really it is God who thinks in me. We do not
behold material objects immediately, but their
" types, their ideal substance as this exists in
God." It needed only Spinoza to say: God
is just this substance and nothing <3lse, not a
person with Intellect and Will. Thus we reach
Spinoza's first, or metaphysical, pantheistic
stage.

There is little doubt that Leibniz went over
into Spinozisrn with the evolving spirit of the
age, and stayed fermenting there for a season.
Indeed he had to work through this stage in
order to come to himself, to his own doctrine.
Hence the significance of his visit with Spinoza,
who was undoubtedly the magnet which drew
him to Holland. Leibniz loved human inter
course, loved the individual (Monad), and
always sought him out to talk with him face to
face. At Paris already Leibniz had discovered
where the next great stage of Philosophy was in
the throes of birth. In France the Church
would surely strangle the infant; during that
age, it could only be born in free Holland
and be allowed to live. Truly a marvelous,
world-forecasting instinct was it that led Leibniz
to The Hague, to talk over the present state of
the Universe with Spinoza, who was then so near
the borderland of the Beyond (he died the fol
lowing year).

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 281

A recent investigator (Stein) affirms that
Leibniz stayed with Spinoza a full month in
continuous intercourse, discussing various prob
lems and reading portions of the Ethics, then
in manuscript. When this book was published
the next year, in the posturnous edition (1677),
Leibniz is known to have studied it with great
care, appropriating it profoundly and letting it
germinate in his own soul.

Now it is just this book with its doctrine
which gives to Leibniz his great philosophical
task at which he keeps laboring during his entire
Second Period of some twenty years. He has
to adopt, then refute, and finally transcend
Spinozism on its metaphysical side. There was
a while during which he was a Spinozist, then
he became an anti-Spinozist, till at last he dis
covered himself in the Monad. Still to the end
of his life he would at times fall back into Spi
nozism. Cases of such reversion are found in
his latest writings, for instance in his Monadology
and in his Principes. Astonishing is the factT
but he never could quite escape from the all-de- /
vouring maw of Spinozan Substance, even while j
exploiting his Monad in opposition to it.

At this point we should note the fact, very
important for the inner connection of the Phi
losophy of the Seventeenth Century, that Leib
niz developed positively out of the second or
ethical stage of Spinoza, while toward the latter's

282 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

first or metaphysical (pantheistic), stage he bore
himself negatively in the main, even if some
times be had a relapse. Of these two stages
Leibniz seems to have been dimly aware, though
but dimly, if we may judge by his Refutation
of Spinoza (translated in Duncan's Leibniz).
It is plain, however, by this same Refutation,
that his arguments are directed against the first
or metaphysical stage of Spinoza's Philosophy,
from which he undoubtedly re -acted after having
adopted it and then worked through it to his
own independent position. Here is a confession
from the New Essays, written probably some
twenty-five years after the time to which it
refers: " You know that formerly I went a little
too far, and began to lean to the side of the
Spinozists who leave only infinite power to God.
But the new light has cured me of this," an
allusion to his own doctrine. He acknowledges a
native tendency, seeing " how much I am imbued
with admiration and with love for this sovereign
fountain of things and beauties." It is manifest
that Leibniz spans the entire philosophical move
ment of the Seventeenth Century : first a Carte
sian, then a Spinozist, then himself, in which last
case he shows on a number of points a return to
Descartes.

We have now marked, with a fair degree of
distinctness, we hope, his transition into his
Second Period which begins with his Spiuozism

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 283

and ends with the full development and formu
lation of his own doctrine.

2. Second Period (1676-1696). In grouping
the Life of Leibniz according to his philosophic
evolution, the Second Period offers grave diffi
culties. Regarding the system of Monads and of
Pre-established Harmony, we find that its devel
opment was very slow, and proceeded by sudden
brief insights, in inonadal fashion. Leibniz the
politician, Leibniz the mathematician, and
Leibniz the philosopher, seem to have some
what different periods, and thus each demands
its own classification. But we are here dealing
specially with Leibniz the philosopher, and we
place the dividing line between his Second and
Third Periods at the time when the two distinctive
categories of his system are decisively uttered.
This was about 1696-7. The term Pre-estab
lished Harmony makes its first printed appear
ance rather shrinkingly in the following passage :
" That which results in the other substances is
only by virtue of a Pre-established Harmony (if
I may be permitted to employ this word) and not
through an actual influence or through the trans
mission of any kind or quality from one to the
other" (JEJclaircissemenl, in reply to M. Fou-
cher). It is evident from this very passage that
Leibniz sorely needs another more distinctive
term in place of the word substance, which has
been worn out by Descartes and Spinoza, not to

284 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

speak of the enormous task it had been made to
do by the medieval thinkers. Hence, the next
year (1697) an expression is found in a letter of
his (Epistola ad Fardellam), alluding to " the
nature of Monads and Substances," the two words
being coupled together in one phrase before final
separation. He continues : De origine earum
puto me jam fixisse, implying that he had now
come to clearness concerning a fundamental
principle of his system. " The Monads do not
arise in the course of nature but by divine crea
tion, nor do they pass away by a natural process,
but by annihilation " (Same Letter).

Thus after fully twenty years' incubation,
Leibniz has elaborated his thought and expressed
it in two distinctive categories, with which he
will be forever associated in the History of
Philosophy. It would have been well if he could
have found a third category equally definite and
distinctive, in which to fix firmly his idea of con
tinuity or imperceptible difference which hovers
between and overcomes all separation in the
universe. There is no doubt, however, that
Leibniz had a general conception of his system
long before 1696. In his correspondence with
Arnauld ten years previous to this date, he gives
a fairly complete account of his leading ideas.
During the whole Second Period he was throwing
out his thoughts sporadically, without much
order, The Monad was born in a monadal

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 285

fashion and showed its character by its sudden,
explosive, dynamic appearance at quite any time
in any kind of writing.

The outer life of Leibniz during this score of
years shows the same peculiarity. On his return
from Paris in 1676 he entered the service of
Duke John Frederick, to whom he was librarian
and privy councillor with residence at the court
of Hanover. A great number of small duties
were imposed upon him, all of which he sought
to perform in a large sense, as if each little task
reflected the universe. It was indeed a strong
contrast: from the macrocosm of Paris he is
suddenly whisked into the microcosm of Han
over. The court was small, the land was
small, the Duke was small, his policy being on
the whole the narrow particularism common
to the German Princes of that time. All this
smallness Leibniz tried to see " under the form
of eternity," but such a task was not small .
He had to write the history of the little dynasty,
which gave him an opportunity to get away from
the court in search of documents in Italy and
elsewhere ; but his best years passed in the mean
time without organizing his philosophy. His
chief business was with the little States of
Germany, political Monads which he sought to
bring into some kind of harmony. Then religion
also had become separative, monadal; first was
the great separation between Catholics and Prot-

286 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

estants; but the Protestants in turn separated
among themselves into manifold sects or religious
Monads mutually exclusive and combative — a
trait which they have not yet lost. Quite a
portion of our philosopher's life was occupied
with an attempt to bridge the chasm between
Catholicism and Protestantism; this failed, still
he also tried his hand at reconciling the Lutheran

o

and Reformed divisions among Protestants. So
we may say that Leibniz had a great deal of
practical experience with political and religious
Monadology while he was working out his phi
losophical Monadology . His monadal philosophy
is verily a reflection of his age, of his people, and
of their moral and institutional condition ; also a
reflection of his outer active life and of his inner
personal character. For Leibniz himself is a
Monad, yea a Monad over all these Monads,
reflecting their reflection in his writing, seeking
to establish that Pre-established Harmony of his
both practically and theoretically. Great was
his endeavor to recognize the monadal nature
in everything, in each person, each State, each
Religion, and then to find the reconciling prin
ciple, which he naturally deemed to be an ideal
divine thing.

At this point we place the substantial comple
tion of the monadological scheme of Leibniz and
therewith the end of the Second Period. It is
true that already ten years before this time he

LEIBNIZ. — LIFE. 287

shows its fundamental thoughts in his Discourse
on Metaphysics, and in the Arnauld Letters
(both translated by Montgomery, Open Court
Publishing Co., Chicago). But his doctrine is
not yet formulated in its own right, possessing
its own distinctive categories. We feel still the

O

struggle for the word and consequently for the
thought. All philosophic thought is not yet
fully born till it has found its own distinctive
speech. To be sure in a sense the Philosophy of
Leibniz was never built out into a fixed system.
The Monads he will use during the coming Period
as so much plastic material which he twists and
forms and transforms somewhat according to his
necessities. Still the Monads remain with their
Pre-established Harmony throughout all these
manifold metamorphoses.

3. Third Period (1696-1716). Still another
twenty years Leibniz lived, full of ideas and
activities, which exploded themselves on many
subjects and in many directions. Characteristic
of the present Period is the fact that he broke
loose from his narrow sphere in Hanover and
ranged pretty freely over all Germany including
Austriao He founded the Academy of Sciences
at Berlin and sought to found similar institutions
at Vienna and Dresden, and even at St. Peters
burg. He became the friend and intimate of
German rulers and princesses ; he met and con
ferred with Peter the Great of Russia no less

288 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

than three times at different places in Germany.
He lived at Vienna for nearly two years and was
appointed Imperial Councillor. Thus Leibniz
was making himself universal in the Teutonic
world, and was disseminating his philosophy by
personal discourse as well as by the written word.
Two of his largest books, applications of his
doctrines, belong to this Period, the Essais and
the Theodicee. Moreover he brought himself to
put into something like a systematic exposition
his explosive, centrifugal thoughts, truly Monads,
in the Monadology.

At last the old rover turned his footsteps back
to his post at Hanover, which he had never given
up. There he spent the last two years of his
life (1714-16) in tasks which must be pro
nounced unworthy of his genius, namely, in
completing the petty annals of the House of
Brunswick and in a theological controversy with
the English clergyman, Dr. Clarke. He died in
Hanover, Nov. 14, 1716, discredited by the court,
disappointed in his main plans, and leaving his
work in fragments.

The lowly but self-determined life of Spinoza
is far more inspiring than that of Leibniz with
his excessive fondness for people of high birth
and station. There is often a certain polished
servility in his words which is out of keeping
with the true philosopher. Though he advo
cated the use of his native homely German, he

LEIBNIZ — LIFE. 289

wrote his chief works in foreign courtly French.
On the whole he is not an ideal character. But
of his extraordinary talents there can be no doubt.
It has been truly declared that he was the most
universal man since Aristotle, equally marvelous
in powers of acquisition and of originality. It
was his chief bane that he loved to display these
powers before high individuals without concen
trating upon one great fundamental task. He
cannot be acquitted of intellectual vanity which
had to be continually gratified by fresh admira
tion daily renewed. So his work is largely made
up of short brilliant coruscations before or for
applauding friends who could not help giving him
what they saw he wanted. The reader to-day is
excited to similar admiration by these little lit
erary Monads, each having the power of reflect
ing the universe. The man who could at court
give such a thaumaturgic display of intellect
must have been in daily demand. His system
still bears the appearance, which is derived from
the manner of its origin: it has an unreal, fan
tastic outside, which makes it look like a pure
play of the imagination. The whole thing seems
at first sight a philosophical romance constructed
with a magician's ingenuity. It takes usually
quite a little while for most readers to find out
that the author is really serious in his thought ;
some readers never find him out. Still there
can be no doubt that we have here a genuine

19

290 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

philosophy, that is, a formulation of the essence
or principle of the All. Nay, it is one of the
most important philosophies, in direct line with
the most exalted achievements in this field.

II. THE WRITINGS or LEIBNIZ. — These are
very numerous, and, it seems, have not yet been
fully published. J. E. Erdmann printed 101
pieces in his edition of the Philosophical Works
of Leibniz (1840), many of which had never
before been given to the public. The very sight
of this edition of Erdmann's shows the scattered,
separative, monadal character of our philosopher's
production. Even the long pieces, like the Evsais
and the Theodicee, are really made up of short
pieces, or essays, on topics which are not closely
connected. We cannot help noting that the
writings of Leibniz were as fragmentary as the
German nation of his age, so that the German
thinker himself seems to be a product of the
peace of Westphalia.

The author's literary style and expression bear
the same mark. On this point we may cite the
words of one of the greatest German critics,
who possessed in certain respects a genius kin
dred to Leibniz. Says Herder: "Leibniz re
vealed his whole system not otherwise than as it
presented itself to him, in glimpses of wit and
imagination, as it lived in his soul, hence in short
essays. It had to be felt in the warmth of this
origin and of this connection, otherwise the spirit

LEIBNIZ. — WRITINGS. 291

of Leibniz was gone, and with it all original and
primitive truth of the expression. ' ' Herder goes
on to censure Wolff " for making theorems out
of these prospects and glimpses of wit, so that
they lost their spontaneousness " (see Merz'
Leibniz).

This extract in our judgment hits the salient
fact in the character of these manifold Writings.
They abound in sudden flashes of insight, in
genious comparisons, bright images which often
shoot forth with an instantaneous explosive
effect. They are monadal, giving a brief repre
sentation of the universe in their little world,
being " figurations of the divinity from moment
to moment," to use a Leibnizian phrase employed
in a similar connection. It should be added,
however, that Herder, in the above extract, is
not fair to Wolff, who, even if somewhat formal,
was a great systematize!' of thought and fur
nished to the work of Leibniz what the latter
lacked, namely organization. Herder was him
self a genius of the Leibnizian cast, bubbling
over with detached insights, very stimulating,
essentially monadal, but without any abiding
sense of an organic Whole, at least in his own
case, for his sharp critical eye could detect this
fault in others, when so minded. Hence the
above defense of Leibniz is a kind of self-
defense.

Unquestionably the most important philo-

292 MODERN' EUROPEAN' PHILOSOPHY.

sophical work, though not the most bulky, is the
Monadology, first printed by Erdmann in the
original French in 1840, though there was a
German translation from the manuscript by
Kohler in 1720. Leibniz wrote the original in
1714 at the request of Prince Eugene of Savoy
who wished to have a brief survey of the author's
philosophy. This fact, however, has been de
nied by Gerhardt, an editor of Leibniz' Works,
who says that the Principes, and not the Monad
ology was written for Prince Eugene, who was
the most distinguished general of his age, and
with whom. Leibniz became intimately acquainted
at Vienna. It certainly accords with the char
acter of Leibniz that he should write his chief
work for a chief celebrity of Europe; nobody
else could draw it out of him. Still it should be
stated that the original manuscript of the Mo
nadology has no title ; the present one is said to
have been given to it by Erdmann.

At any rate in this booklet the philosophy of
Leibniz is stated in a more concise and orderly
manner than anywhere else, though the work is
not a well-connected piece of writing; it shows
the rnonadal tendency in treating of Monads.
After giving the psychical element of the Monad
and reaching the Ego, the author jumps to con
sidering his two favorite logical categories of
Contradiction and of Sufficient Keason, one of
which furnishes necessary truth (whose opposite

LEIBNIZ — PHILOSOPHY. 293

is impossible), and the other contingent truth
(whose opposite is possible). Parallel to the
two kinds of knowledge are the two kinds of
causes, final and efficient.

" The ultimate reason of things must be in a
necessary substance in which all the particular
changes exist only potentially, as if in the
source — this reason is what we call God, one
and sufficient" (Mon. 37, 38), outside of whom
there is nothing independent. " From which it
follows that God is absolutely perfect, as per
fection is nothing else than the greatness of the
positive reality seized with exactness by setting
aside all limits," God being the unlimited and
so the perfect, the absolutely infinite. Thus
Leibniz endeavors to grasp the All, very faintly
and dubiously seeing in it some kind of a
process. We can observe that he is wrestling
with what we call the Pampsychosis, catching
hold of shreds of it and tearing them off, seek
ing to thrust them into sentences and into cate
gories. Though all these multifarious gleams
and insights, and even phantasms, runs a fun
damental principle which is indeed common to
all Philosophy, but to which Leibniz has given
his own unique and distinctive form.

III. PHILOSOPHY OF LEIBNIZ. — Repeatedly^
has the point been urged that Leibniz has no
fully jointed, organic system of thought, that,
indeed, he lacks in organizing power. Still he

294 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

would not be a philosopher unless he revealed the
philosophic Norm, either by way of adoption or of
opposition. It lay deep in the nature of Leibniz
to keep his first principle plastic, adjustable, not
rigidly systematic ; thus he could mould it over
continually according to occasion, being essen
tially a f ormable material ready to shoot into any
shape. This constitutes a great difficulty in the
giving an organic exposition of the Leibnizian
Philosophy; in its details it gets recalcitrant
to order and consistency; the further we go
down in it toward minuteness, the more self-
repellent and monadal it becomes, being ulti
mately composed of individual self-sufficient
Monads. On the other hand, as we rise toward
the totality, there is order, yea harmony pre-es
tablished divinely, which controls and arranges
the infinitely divided world of Monads.

Accordingly we shall not fail to find in Leibniz
the general sweep of the Norm, the primal order
ing principle of all Philosophies, which likewise
show themselves as Monads requiring a Pre-es
tablished Harmony. Our philosopher, therefore,
will reveal his spiritual kinship by his mighty en
deavor to formulate the Universe in its threefold
process of God, World, and Man, which gives
the three basic sciences of Philosophy — Meta
physics, Physics, and Ethics. Within this uni
versal Norm, Leibniz will have his own peculiar
movement, thought, and expression, wherein con-

LEIBNIZ. - METAPHYSICS. 295

sists his originality. Such is the general fact
which is now to be set forth in its more impor
tant details.

A. METAPHYSICS.

This portion of Philosophy seeks to formulate
the essence of Being in the pure categories of
Thought, as these are employed by Leibniz.
His first work is " a metaphysical dissertation,"
whose theme is the principle of the individual
(principium individui), and in which he sides
with the Medieval Nominalists in assigning reality
only to individuals, since whatever exists must
by its very existence be an individual. The reader
should observe the relation of this early thought
of Leibniz (written when he was net more than
17 years old) to his matured view of the Monad,
which will often be called an individual.

Beside this scholastic connection, Leibniz
stands in close relation to Descartes, whose dual
ism of Thought and Extension he^trivea to har
monize by filling up the gap with his Monads.
He cites Descartes more than any other philoso
pher, usually for the purpose of showing his own
different view. This he did so often and with so
strong an emphasis, that he was accused "of
wishing to establish his reputation on the ruins
of that of Descartes." Such an imputation he
denies with warmth, though he has a keen eye

296 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

for the shortcomings not only of the doctrine
but also of the character of Descartes, *« who had
an unbounded ambition to elevate himself into
being the head of a party." Nevertheless Leib
niz declares: " it is my custom to say that the
Cartesian Philosophy is as it were the ante-cham
ber of Truth, and that it is difficult to penetrate
very far in advance without having passed
through that Philosophy." This shows that he
deems Cartesianism a necessary stage in the evo
lution of the thought of the time. But he con
tinues : "Still you deprive yourself of the true
knowledge of the basis of things, if you stop
there" (see Reponse aux Reflexions, p. 142,
Erdmannj. That is, you must move forward to
my Philosophy, which is the true solution of the
previous difficulties. Such a statement sounds
doubtless egotistical, still every philosopher
makes it, has to make it, if he believes in his
own work. Time has confirmed the opinion of
Leibniz in this matter.

Very certain is it that Leibniz was deeply
indebted to another philosopher, to whom he
pays scant recognition — -Spinoza. It is the
Spinozan doctrine of the consubstantlality of
Thought and Extension, which suggested to
Leibniz his method of solving th^ r!n.rt.p.sifl.n
dualism. The poor, humble Jew of Amsterdam
does not receive his dues from the philosophic

LEIBNIZ — METAPHYSICS.

courtier, who never misses an opportunity to
name the French nobleman as antagonist.

The metaphysical development of Leibniz' ?
thought will show itself in three main stages ?
whiclTlire^ designated as follows : The Monad /
taken by itself, the Continuity ..of Monads, andj
finally Pre-established Harmony. These three
categories are employed by Leibniz himself in
the formulation of his work, though often in a
desultory manner, so that their process is not
manifest. He never gave any complete organi
zation of his system ; we have to think that he
was not a great organizer of thought. His
genius was monadal as well as his philosophy.
His way of writing is to set down scattered in
sights in any shape which may happen to be at
hand — letter, essay, article, remark — each of
which is a little Monad with a brief dynamic
energy all its own. Still they all show a common
character and principle, a T^rp-establishod Har-:
t original Monad, the philosopher

himself.

1. The Monad. The_conception of the Monad
is the most distinctive as well as fundamental
thing in the philosophy of Leibniz. It takes the
place of the substance of Spinoza, which is now
infinitely divided, yet each division is substance.
Hence Leibniz called his Monad first by the
name of substantial forms (a scholastic term)
or points of substance. The idea of punctate- j

298 M ODEEN E UE OPE AN PHIL OSOPH Y.

ness enters into them strongly, the universejs
reduced to its points, which however are not
physical, as thiey are not extended, nor
mathematical aslthey have force, life, and
even self-consciousness. I Hence Leibniz gives
to his Monads like wi se A t _he~7 Tt&meT~<5f^entel-
echies or pure activities, an ^Aristotele^a^term
which designates the total process within
itself, or the self-determined. From this
point of view the Universe is" made up of an in
finite number of processes, quite independent of
each other, yet each reflecting the All. The
essence of Being is, then, aecording__to Leibniz,
the Monad, which does not arise or pass away,
though it has intern^1 nTin-n^^aj These Monads
have also an atomic character, still they are not
the _atoms of Dernocritus, to whose doctrine
" Leibniz once leaned, since they have an inner
self-active energy. They are individualized, and
no two individuals are alike; to be different in
their principle, tfrpir nature has in it difference,
separation! multiplicity—- The vast crystallized
pyramid of Spinoza^ is smitten by the blow of
Leibniz and reduced to very powder. The mo
nistic All becomes the inonadal Many.

Still the purpose of Leibniz is not to lem.iin

a/ in this stage of separation and discord : his grand

er J< object is harmony. Hence these individualistic

^ Monads into which the Cosmos has seemingly

been pulverized are to be harmonized into a new

LEIBNIZ. - ME TAPIIYS1CS. 299

totality. In general the life and thought of our
philosopher were largely devoted to the recon
ciliation of differences. We have seen how he
sought to bring together the two divisions of
Christians, Protestant and Catholic, and also
the two divisions of Protestants, Lutheran and
Reformed. On the same line runs his philo
sophic endeavor, so that his other great category
is Pre-established Harmony, as the reconciling
principle of his independent self-asserting Mo
nads. Even these b (^employs for harmonizing
the Cartesian opposites, Thought and Extension,
whose abyss he will fill up with a continuity of
Monads, thus making a road over which anybody
can pass.

Coming back to the conception of the Monad,
we are to grasp it primarily^ as self-sufficient,
self -dependent, not determined from without by
any other Monad. It is itself and nothing else;
it is a simple substance, not composite, but is the
elementTof all that is composite. " The Monads
have no windows, by which anything can enter or
go ~~fortfi/7 '{Monadology , c. 7). Still " each
Monad represents the Universe," each element or
part reflects the All of which it is a part, other
wise it would not be a part. " Each spirit being
a little God in its department, it results that such
a spirit can enter into society with God " (Do.
c. 83, 84). This is a great insight : each Monad
has in it the image of the All, not only_atjrest

300 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

bi^iii_inovement. Eaduportion jjfjnatter is not
only divisible to infinity, but also each minute
subdivision "has its own movement; otherwise
it would be impossible for each portion of matter
to express the Universe " (Do. c. 65). Such is
the general conception of the Monad, which must
still reveal the Whole in all its division.

But this can only be brought about through
movement, through action. The Monad cannot
represent the Universe as a placid motionless pic
ture, for this would not be a true representation
of the Universe with its force, its energy, its
eternal activity. Hence each Monad has its pro
cess, which process, Strange to say, is expressed
by Leibniz in terms more psychological than
metaphysical. In brief, the following is the pro
cess of the Monad : —

(«) There is an unconscious clement in the
Monad, not only as human Ego, but even as

material. Everything that exists is a soul, ac-

j s

cording to Leibniz ; body or extension is a con
fused perception, and manifests force or soul .

Thus the Cartesian separation of body and soul
is mediated; properly soul alone exists, and it has
always perception in some form. The lower the
being, the more complete is its unconscious, or
purely potential nature. Still, even the higher
being, endowed with intelligence, has around its
conscious self an enveloping sphere of uncon-
SQiousiiess, the unborn realm of its potentialities.

LEIBNIZ. - METAPHYSICS. 301

Leibniz calls them little or insensible perceptions,
" in consequence of which the present is full of
the past, yet big with the future" (Nouveaux
Essais, Avant-Propos) . Into this unconscious
realm the mind returns in sleep, swoon, and
dream, not to speak of other similar states.
Feelings, instincts, impulses, the inheritance of
an incalculable ancestry belong to these little
perceptions. They are the underlying links
which secretly join together not only all life but
all bemg, so jth at " Nature makes no leaps," and
continuity is the law over al'l separation.

Such is the unconscious stage of the Monad,
reflecting the universe (as it must) in a confused,
undeveloped, chaotic way, whoso manifestation is
matter. But in this unseparated disordered state
lies force, the tendency to separation and order
which must be looked at by itself in the total
scheme.

(b) The Monad has in its internal process
what Leibniz calls Appttition, which is "the
action of the inner principle that causes change
or the transition from one perception to another"
(Monadologyt c. 15 ). This Appetition rises from
the previous unconscious realm (des perceptions
insensibles), being " an effort of which we are
not aware" (Nouveaux Essais, Book II. ch.
21, 5). Here we see the clement of Will in the
Monad, properly the second element or stage of
it (as suggested in the extract just preceding),

302 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

though Leibniz often places it after perception
proper, which would make it the third stage in
the process of the Monad.

Th!sJWT[jj)r Appetition isjnot simpl^the_ voli
tion of a self-conscious being, but belongs like
wise to matter, is, in f acta the force which Leib
niz finds in all material objects, being just the
principle of their extension. The Pan-dynam
ism of our philosopher is the manifestation of
Will in the Cosmos, which Will must show itself
in every Monad from the lowest to the highest.
But the Monad, having no windows for egress
or ingress, must keep its Will within itself,
making the same its principle of inner change,
or " the transition from one perception to
another." So we properly pass through Will or
Appetition, to Perception, which is the third
stage of the process of the Monad.

(c) All Monads are endowed with Perception,
from highest to lowest, which enables them
to reflect the Universe. There are many degrees
of Perception, or reflections"!)! the Universe,
from the confused and unconscious up to the
clear jancj^ conscious. "The Monad is limited
and defined by the degrees of distinctness in
Perception " (Mon. c. 60). Thus Perceptions
universal, it is not simply thought, not neces
sarily sensation even.

The Monad, however, cannot perceive any
thing outside of itself, being windowless, unable

LEIBNIZ. — METAPHYSICS. 303

to give or receive. The Monad, high and low,
perceives itself in perceiving the Universe. The
upper Monad, the Ego, can perceive only its own
states ; the external world it cannot reach ; what
seems the outside reality is only a projection of
its own inner modification. That such modifica
tion corresponds to the reality, depends on
another principle which will be considered later.
Here we see the reason why Leibniz is called
the father of German idealism. Thus Percep
tion determines the gradation of all being. The
Monad in which the Universe reflects itself most
clearly and distinctly, has the most exalted Per
ception, and is itself in the most exalted rank of
Monads. The human soul approaches perfec
tion in proportion to its adequate Perception or
representation of the All — Perception being that
" state which envelops or represents multiplic
ity in unity or in the simplicity of substance ' '
(Mon. c. 14).

The Monad, then, cannot perceive anything but
itself, and such Perception of Self is of various
gradations. When the Monad clearly and dis
tinctly reflects itself within itself (and so becomes
like God, or " a little divinity " ), it is rational,
it is called Spirit. *« Such a Spirit is capable of
performing reflexive acts and of considering that
which is named Ego (Moi), Substance, Monad,
Soul, Spirit." Thus Perception rises to Apper
ception. " It is well to make the distinction be-

304 MODERN E UK OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

twecn Perception and Apperceptiqnj the former
is the interior state of the Monad representing
external things, the latter is the reflexive knowl
edge of that interior state, which is conscious
ness " (conscience), or self-knowledge, the return
of Perception upon itself or its reflexive act (see
Principes de la Nature et de la Grace, c. 4, 5).
Thus Leibniz grapples with the self-conscious Ego,
calling its activity Apperception. And in the
Monadology (c. 30) we have the following : " It
is by the knowledge of necessary truths and by
their abstractions that we are elevated to reflex
ive acts which cause us to think of that which
is called Ego (Moi), and of considering that this
or that is in us." Thus Leibniz reaches the.
self-reflection of the Ego, though in a some
what roundabout way. He continues: "Thus/
it is that in thinking about ourselves we }
think of Being, Substance, the Immaterial, even j
of God, conceiving that what is limited in us is \
in Him without limits. Such reflexive acts fur- /
nish the chief objects of our reasonings." The \
interest of these passages is that Leibniz begins
to see the self-conscious Ego as the basis of all
philosophic thought. It is true that he has but /
a glimpse which soon vanishes into his meta
physical concepts. If he could have developed
all that lies in that Ego (Moi), whose reflex
activity so excites his curiosity, there would have
been no Leibnizian Philosophy, strictly speaking,

LEIBNIZ. — METAPHYSICS. 305

but something very different, nothing less than a
new discipline — Psychology.

Still it is to be noted that the foregoing pro
cess of the Monad is psychological, rather than
purely metaphysical. Its three stages, the Un
conscious (Feeling), Appetition (Will), Percep
tion (Intellect, Spirit), will be recognized at
once as the three fundamental activities of
Psychology, which form in their process a Psy
chosis. Undoubtedly Leibniz was not conscious
of any such procedure ; we have to pick out and
piece together from scattered notices these
stages, each of which is a kind of Monad, inde
pendent, self-sufficient, occupied with its ,own
little world. Still they come at last into a kind
of mutual rhythmic movement, though each
remains as distinct as a planet whirling around
the Sun.

A question begins to obtrude itself at this
point: How does that Monad called Leibniz,
whose soul has no window through which he can
get out or let anything in, know so much about
other Monads, which are of like character,
never giving or receiving any visits? He seems
doubly penned in, being shut up within his own
house and shut out of his neighbor's house —
a situation not favorable to getting information
about matters abroad. This question, not un-
importunate now, will be sure to come up again
with renewed importunity.

20

306 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

We have found that the Monad, taken by
itself, has a process involving three stages, which
constitute its own inner life or movement. But
no two Monads can be alike, they have degrees
of condition, lower and higher, according to
which they are now to be arranged.
(2) The Order of the Monads. It has been
already stated that ejerj^J^Joniid JTjejiresents, or
in a way reproduces the Universe, but jsuch re
production in each case is different, according to
the clearness and distinctness of the Perception.
,Monads, therefore, show degrees of perfection,
and so there rises the idea of an ascending line
of them, from the lowest to the highest. Each
Monad has been called a point , and the li n e of
ascent is composed of an infinite number of
points (substantial, not physical or mathemat
ical) which are separated from one another by
intervals not perceptible, though real. This line
of continuity is everywhere, and permits no gaps
or leaps, which the continuous Monads prevent.
Upon this principle of continuity JLeibniz lays
great stress, since he thinks that with it he has
done away with all the grand separations in the
Universe, such as soul and body, man and brute,
animal and vegetable, even life and death. He
has a veritable horror of any visible breach, and
he starts to connecting the extremes with a line
of his Monads.

small breach always remains, for the

LEIBNIZ. - METAPHYSICS. 307

Monads cannot strictly interlink, being mutually
exclusive. But the separation is reduced to
invisibility; Leibniz is satisfied if the gap is not
perceptible. Thejdeal line of ascent, however,
is not broken, but shows_a hierarchical order,
between whose Monads there is complete differ
ence which has to be thought even if it be not
perceived. This is truly a Leibnizian compro
mise: the independent Monad is .preserved, but
we must close our eyes to its independence.

(a) The gradation of the Monads from
lowest to highest has already been alluded to ;
each Monad as microcosm reflects the great
Whole or the Macrocosm, but each does this in
its own way, " from its own point of view." If
the Perception of the Monad is confused and
chaotic, it is low down in the scale ; but if its
Perception is not only clear but self-clear, rising
to Apperception, it is proportionately high in the
monadal scale.

Here the modern reader begins to think of
evolution. And there are passages in Leibniz
as in so many philosophers and poets, which
may be regarded as far-off flashes of the coming
doctrine. But the monadal order is not evolu
tionary ; evolution itself has yet to evolve .

(b) Next comes the authority with which the
higher Monads are endowed. JChe^rnost perfect
of them are the rulers, the less perfect have to

The dominant Mopad (or Entelechy,

308 MODERN E UE OPE AN PHIL OSOPH F.

Soul) exercises the supreme government in the
LeibnizIanjOrder. " Every living body has a
dominant Monad, which is the soul of it; like-
wTsTeach of the members of this living body is
full of other living bodies of which each in turn
has its dominant Monad or soul" (Mon. c.
TOY. Such is the hierarchical arrangement in
every ofganTcThing which has rule and subordi
nation of parts; inorganic objects, such as a
stone, is without self-movement because it has no
dominant Monad, but is simply an aggregation
of Monads not obeying a central authority.
Still even the inorganic object is not soulless, but
properly a collection of souls. " There is a world
of creatures, animals, entelechies, souls in the
smallest particle of matter" (Mon. c. 66).
Every portion of matter may be deemed a pond
full of fish, each fish is in turn a pond full of
Monads, nay each drop of the pond is a world
full of monadal inhabitants. Thus Leibniz casts
his glance into the infinitely small, and sees
there his Universe. With his microscopic bent
of mind he beholds a heaven peopled with in
numerable stars '« in the smallest particle of
matter . ' ' Not the telescope_but Jbh^jiiicroscope
is his instrument, and he is going to minimize
the vast outer Copernican Universe, finding it in
the least constituent of itself, even in a grain of
dust. Here too he sees that which is " equally
in the part and in the whole."

I

LEIBNIZ. - METAPHYSICS. 509

Iii another passage, Lettre a M. Dangicourt,
Leibniz say si " I believe that there are only
Monads in Nature, the rest is merely a phenom
enon which results from them. Each Monad is
a mirror of the Universe according to its point
of view, accompanied by a multitude of other
Monads composing its organic body, of which
there is the dominant Monad." Even the
Monads have their king or emperor as supreme
ruler, while down the line run a large number
of lesser authorities — duke, count, baron, etc.,
terminating in the mass of plebeian Monads,
whose Perception of the Universe is very con
fused and disordered. This was not unlike the
Germany of his time.

(c) None the less does the Monad posse
autonomy in its field, being determined from
within, having its own inner process unassailabl
by any outside power. The governing Mona
cannot subordinate it by a direct exercise of
power. The act of obediencejmust be the obey
ing Monad's own act. No arbitrary ruler can be
permitted in this inoruidal realm. If there be
submission to law, it must somehow be the
Monad's own law. Does he make the law which
governs him? Hardly; not yet can such a doc
trine be thought of even by a Leibniz, who,
however, will not tolerate any capricious despot
exercising authority over his beloved Monads.

It is evident that here an old, old trouble has

310 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

shown itself, the conflict between hegemony
and autonomy, over which those Monads, the
ancient Greek cities, worried themselves so long
and so helplessly, till a new supreme Power (or
Monad), coming from the outside (Macedon),
seized them all and subjected them to its sway.
In the monadal world of Leibniz a similar con
flict has arisen. There is the individual Monad
impervious, independent, all alone, existent in his
own self. But he must be brought into order,
must be obedient to authority, and dwell in a
cosmos, to which he has to contribute his share.
But is it possible to do anything with him if he
gets refractory?

So it comes that the ordering of the Monads
has called up the sharpest kind of a dualism,
which threatens to precipitate the whole scheme
into chaos. The all-excluding individuality of
the Monad, which is its freedom, must be main
tained ; yet it must also be made to fit info the
established order, and not use its liberty to kick
out of the Universe. To overcome this dire
trouble which his own principle, his dear Monad,
has begotten for him, he excogitates a grand plan
of reconciliation, which is a master-stroke of its
kind. To be sure, the hint for the solution of
his problem he unqestionably derives from
Spinoza.

3. pr£-f>atn.Mixhf>fl, Harmony. Such is the
famous category which Leibniz flings into the

LEIBNIZ. - ME TAPE YSIC8. 3 1 1

philosophic stream of speech, for the purpose of
allaying the discord which has arisen in his
monadal Order. Above these mutually impene
trable Monads, which cannot possibly influence
one another directly, there is a common creative
principle which has established all in a Harmony,
and J/his must, therefore, be in itself pre-estab
lished, pre-existent, determining the Monads in
their inner character.

So it comes that the lower Monad obeys
through the necessity of its own Heaven-descended
nature, and the higher Monad rules b}T the same
necessity, which is indeed its divine right of
authority. The dominant and the subject Monads
stand in their external relations not directly
through each other but through their Pre-estab
lished Harmony. Leibniz illustrates this princi
ple particularly by the conformity which exists
between those two wholly separate Monads, Soul
and Body. "The Soul follows its own laws
and the Body follows its own; they meet
together in virtue of the Pre-established Har
mony which exists between all substances, since
they are representations of one and the same
Universe " (Mon. c. 78). Every Monad, re
flecting the Universe, has a content harmonious
with that of all other Monads, though each does
this differently, " from its own point of view."
Soul and body exist together and co-operate, not
immediately through each other, but through the

3 1 2 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

supreme principle, Pre-established Harmony.
" In this system the Body acts as if there were
no Soul, and the Soul acts as if there were no
Body and both act as if one influenced the other "
( Mon. c. 81). Such is the world of appearance
(as if) in which each Monad seems to determine
the other, but behind this appearance is the true
determiner of all, Pre-established Harmony.
Similarly in the solar system the earth seems
to determine the Sun, but the truth is that the
Sun determines the Earth. The planets seem to
be wanderers going whither they list, but we now
know that all their motions are determined by
the celestial law of Pre-established Harmony.
The principle of the Macrocosm is transferred to
the Microcosm, and Copernicus becomes univer
sal in Leibniz.

But this Pre-established Harmony must be
conceived as active within itself, indeed creative,
and hence it has a process. It too is a Monad
or rather Jt is the attribute of the
l^onad of fhp. Universe, which every crea
Monad reflects. Thus arises the difference be
tween the kinds of Monads, created and uncre
ated, or creating. The creating Monad, having
created the monadal Universe brings us back to
our starting-point, the Monad as existent and
created. But first a few words about this process.

(a) The Monad of Monads has pre-established
Harmony in the lesser Monads, which are derived

LEIBNIZ, - METAPHYSICS. 313

procreated, being born " by the continual ful-
guratioDS of the Divinity (Monad of Monads)
from moment to moment '" (Mon. c. 47). This
sounds a good deal like Neo-Platonic emanation.
It asserts the continuity of the divine process of
creation, which is not once for all. This Monad I
of Monads is God, " the primordial unity or the \
simple original substance," which, however,
Leibniz protests is not one with the Universe, <
but distinct from it, not immanent but transcen
dent. He seeks to avoid the Substance of
Spinoza, by putting his Monad of Monads out
side of the world of created Monads.

(/>) Thus the Universe of Leibniz is cleft in
twain by the two kinds of Monads, created and
uncreated. This is a return to the Cartesian
dualism of two substances, created and uncreated,
which Spinoza seeks to overcome by his doctrine
of the one absolute substance. From this point
of view Leibniz has again dualized the One of
Spinoza who could not think of putting Goc
outside the Universe, and thus have two Uni
verses. The created Monads cannot perisl
naturally, nor begin naturally; they can be de
stroyed or be created only by the act of Goc
(the Monad of Monads). They have no parts
nor extension, nor figure, nor can they be divided
They are the veritable Atoms of Nature, and in a
word the elements of things ( Mon. c. 3-6 ) . Such
is the Leibnizian contribution: the self-deter-

314 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

mined Monad, exploiting itself in its own world.
Yet all these movements, seemingly free and from
within, are really given to it from without. Here
is the relapse to Descartes, whose God determines
the substance directly. Leibniz has this side of
external determination, but with it also the self-
determination of the Monad.

* (c) The outcome is that the Monad of Monads
I de_termines all the created Monads to be self-
i determining. "The figurations of Divinity"
are these perpetual acts of God reproducing the
self-determination of the Monad which is as yet
too weak to stand on its freedom. Individual
liberty in the age of Leibniz was helpless with
out God's continual support. That was never
theless a great thing to do : the philosopher
makes God the fountain of man's freedom.

The correspondence and co-operation of Monad
with Monad through their common Pre-estab
lished Harmony is derived from Spinoza's con-
substantial principle (ordo rerum est idem ac
ordo idearum). Through this principle the Mo
nads are substances which correspond with one
another and so can unite and even work together.

CD

It is then Spinoza who has transformed that
unsocial, exclusive Monad into all forms of asso
ciation, as well as endowed it with the possi
bility of love and charity. Still it is the merit of
Leibniz (as against Spinoza) that he has made
the individual truly substantial and endowed him

LEIBNIZ. — ME TAPIIYSICS. 3 15

with self -determinatio 11. _JjQ£.-Jri -Spinoza the
Mode (as metaphysical) is powerless, being
wholly absorbed in Substance; but in Leibniz
tli<fMode becomes the Monad, and is in its sphere
self-determined. This rise, however, of the
Mode to God follows also Spinoza, but in his
second or ethical stage.

X Pre-established Harmony, then, has to order
\ a world of Monads which God has created in
separation, each being independent with its own
distinct character, according to its degree of
perception. Thus we come to a new begin
ning — nothing less than Nature, or the World
of Monads, which is next to be shown in its
arrangement through Pre-established Harmony.
.The preceding stage of Metaphysics has unfolded
the principle of the Monad ; now we are to see
that principle applied to the monadal Universe,
which here must start with Nature, whose science
is Physics.

Observations . 1 . The reader, seeking to inte
grate all Philosophies into one preafc move-
inent, can now see the close connection between
Spinoza and Leibniz. The following points may
here be suggested : (a) The ascent of the
Monad to its Divine Source is given in the sec
ond or ethical stage of Spinoza. The latter's
descent or metaphysical stage is not only left
out, but assailed by Leibniz. (6) The Mode of
Spinoza through " the persistence in its own be-

316 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ing," may well have suggested the Monad which
is also self-asserting. Both Mode and Monad
are brought at last by their respective promulga-
tors to a participation in God. (c) The consub-
stantial principle of Spinoza becomes the Pre-
established Harmony of Leibniz. Yet here is a
great difference : Leibniz holds that God through
Will brings about this correspondence, for in
stance between mind and matter; but Spinoza
holds that these are already God or in God, be
ing simply modifications of Him. Here we have
on the one hand the Leibnizian Transcendence,
and on the other the Spinozan Immanence, of God.
Moreover it is at this point that we may see the
chief propelling motive which drove Leibniz to
make a new Philosophy for succeeding that of
Spinoza: he sought to rescue the Christian idea
of a transcendent Creator. Hence the world
with Leibniz is contingent, sprung of the direct
Will of God, and not necessitated or emanated
as it is with Spinoza, (d) The highest char
acteristic of the Monad is that it represents
the Universe, it is the part which ideally con
tains the whole in a more or less perfect manner.
Spinoza also has that which is " equally in the
part and in the whole," whence comes " the
adequate idea. ' ' Thus the Leibnizian perception
or representation of the Monad has its sugges
tion, rather dim to be sure, in Spinoza.

2. Thus the jethicaLSpinoza is transferred into

LEIBNIZ. — METAPHYSICS. 3 17

the metaphysical sphere by Leibniz, for the
Monad belongs to Metaphysics, not to Ethics.
This is seen in the fact that Spinoza has God as /
Substance, while Leibniz has the Monad as Sub-^
stance. The first sentence of the Monadologyj
says : " The Monad is nothing else than a sim- \
pie Substance, which goes to make up com- J
posites."

Now Leibniz shows (as already set forth) the
psychical process in his «' metaphysical form"
or Monad, whereas Spinoza shows this process
in his ethical stage. Thus Leibniz makes the
Monad the First, the Absolute, the essence of
Being, even God, who is Monad of Monads.

3. The term Monad is old, going back to the
Pythagoreans. Some have supposed that Leib
niz took it from Bruno, the Italian philosopher.
Most likely is the conjecture that it came to him
from his friend, Van Helmont. At any rate he
uses the word in a sense peculiar to himself.
Leibniz was quite fifty years old before his
nomenclature took its final shape in the terms
Monad and Pre-established Harmony. The
latter came first (about 1695 or 1696). Here is
said to be the first use of the term : * ' All sub-^
stances have activities, but properly su.ch activities \
belong only in the substance itself ; that which
results in the others (substances) is only in vir
tue a Pre-established Harmony (if I may be per
mitted to use this word)." ( See First Explan-

318 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ation of the New System, Erdmann, p. 133.)
The reader will note in this passage the need j
of the word Monads for substances in contrast )
with the term substance itself. The next year /
the word needed will appear, and Leibniz will be /
in full possession of his two most significant cate- J
gories.

4. The influence of Copernicus supplemented
by Kepler produced a mighty impression upon
Leibniz. The fact that man must deny his
immediate sensations in order to reach truth
found its happiest illustration in the Copernican
System which forces him to see the Sun stand
and the earth move around it instead of the
opposite. To be rational we must become
heliocentric instead of geocentric. The heliocen
tric idea Leibniz sought to bring down from the
skies and enthrone in the kingdom of mind. The
plan of the outer Cosmos was true of the inner,
both in fact were one Pre-established Harmony,
both were " figurations of Divinity."

5. The Soul, the Ego, is to make a center of
order in the little world (microcosm) and thus
be what God is in the great world (macrocosm).
The science of Mathematics, especially in the
Seventeenth Century, unfolded God's method
of regulating the physical universe. Herein man
is to imitate in his own sphere the Divine act,
and become as it were a second Providence.
Says Leibniz: " Our soul is architectonic in its

LEIBNIZ . — PHYSICS. 3 1 9

voluntary actions, and uncovering the sciences
according to which God has regulated things
(by weight, measure, number), it imitates in
its little world that which God does in the great
world " (Principes de la Nature et de la Grace,
c. 14).

Our next duty, then, is to think after God
the realm of Nature, and to see its Pre-established
Harmony, following its inner connection through
the continuity of the Monads. We now go
down to the bottom of the World, and see it
in its primeval form or chaos, which Leibniz
calls the First Matter. Thence we rise to the
Soul, and thus compass the science of Physics,
after which there is a still further rise (the
ethical), of which we shall speak in its place.

B. PHYSICS.

The metaphysical sphere just concluded has
given the inner principle of all things ; now we
are to see that principle taking on its outer shape
and manifesting itself in the World. Just as
the metaphysical movement showed an ascent,
so the present physical [movement will show an
ascent, beginning with the lowest and rising by
imperceptible gradations through nature and
beyond it to the ethical sphere, which keeps up
the ascent to the supreme attainment, to God.

At this point we may observe a difference of

820 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

procedure between Spinoza and Leibniz. The
former tacks his Physics on the end of his Meta
physics, inasmuch as Nature for the metaphysical
Spinoza was but a vanishing Mode, quite illusory.
Hence his rise begins with his ethical sphere, as
we have often observed, But Leibniz com
mences his ascent with Nature and continues it
through Man to God, since Nature was for
Leibniz not wholly an illusion, in spite of certain
Spinozan tendencies.

The personal starting-point of Leibnizian
Physics, indeed of Leibnizian Philosophy, is the
philosopher's re-action against the Cartesian
dualism of Thought and Extension. Matter is
something more than passive Extension; its
power of resistance, when it is assailed, shows
that. But Extension itself, as a state, implies
something that extends itself. It is not simply
inert and dead, but has within itself a separa
tion, a going forth out of itself, without which
it could not be conceived. Thus behind Exten
sion is a somewhat which is always reproducing
it, renewing it, extending it.

The absolutely impassable chasm which the
Cartesians place between Thought and Extension
cannot be allowed to exist. For Thought ap
proaches Extension in a line of minute differ
ences, and Extension approaches Thought in a
similar line; each, so to speak, reaches out the
hand to the other, and touches the tips of the

LEIBNIZ. —PHYSICS. 321

fingers across the abyss. Thus there is the Leib-
nizian continuity between Cartesian extremes
of the Universe. The self-conscious mind has
in it countless unconscious conditions (IittIeT per
ceptions) which run back toward the material
world, while matter shows its essence to be an
immaterial principle, which gives to it Exten
sion.

The physical Philosophy of Leibniz, there- , . *
fore, begins with affirming, first, that matter_as _
extended is no^. inactive, but must always be ex
tending itself in order to stay extended ; secondly,
that matter, through its resistance to any outside >
impact, shows an inner__±Qrce^coniparable^J:o ^
power of Will, def endin^Jtself^ as it were, and
revealing character and individuality; thirdly,
matter, by this activity, suggests a^process con- ,
tinually gOJDfl On, within itsp.lf, whinh in

Mindr Ego. Thus it
comes that Leibniz calls every particle of matter a

v_^xO/_A -- ~^,' - — ~v ~

^sj^ul, and thereby binds together mind and matter
with a chain having an infinite number of links.
Belongs to the sensible world,

but the essence of matter is immaterial, i^pt ac
cessible to the senses, which can only give a per
verted view of it, as they do of the planetary
.w^rld. We thus conceive Matter in its first or
immediate stage as dividing within itself, and
revealing the immaterial and insensible as its own
essential principle, which Leibniz calls Force at

21

322 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

first, but which will in time be baptized with its
philosophical name, Monad. This, however,
suggests the complete process, which we shall
name Soul in the present connection. Thus the
Physics (philosophy of Nature) of Leibniz may
be considered under the three leading heads:
Matter, Force, Soul.

I. Matter. Leibniz has scattered a good many
observations about Matter up and down his writ
ings. We see that its conception gave him no
small trouble, as it did to the ancient Philoso
phers. Primarily he divides it into the First and
Second Matter, or in general Passive and Active
Matter. He makes God the " cause of Matter,"
not like the Platonic Demiurge, who has Matter
as given, and with it models the world; nor like
Aristotle's First Mover, whom Matter (also
given) desires, and so it moves toward the
Perfect One, producing Motion and the Cosmos.
Leibniz was too good a Christian theologically to
assert Matter to be uncreated, even if he affirms
it to be"~elernal.

ThougE he emphasizes so strongly the dyna
mic principle of Matter in general, he feels that
he must get back to a passive Matter " without
any soul or life united to it." This he does in
order to preserve the mechanical view of the
world with its Mathematics, which had been so
marvelously developed in his time, he being a
great mathematician himself.

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. 323

(a) He says: " Matter taken in itself or nude is
constituted through Antitypia (^resistance, coun-
terstroke) andJExtension. Through the first of
these Matter exists in space (maintains its place or
locality) ; through the second Matter is continued
through space, and has figure and magnitude
(De anima brutorum, c. 1). Such is the First
Matter __ of Leibniz . (prima ma/eria) which
properly ought to lie back of even these two
divisions of it, which are two attributes (attri-
buta). Somewhat differently he says in another
passage: "In this passive power of resisting I
place the notion itself of the First Matter " (De
ipsa Natura, c. 11). ^[sewliere he asserts that
of .Matter

impenetrability (An/t/ypm). Mailer wax ^dark
uncertain thought to Leibniz as it was to Plato
who confesses its obscurity. It would seern that
Leibniz holds thisJFirst. Matter to ha the com-
ofGod, who alone is Siibstance

separate i from all Matter, since he is pure
activity (actus purus) , endowed with no passive
EQjEar^ which, wherever^ it, be, constitutes jJat^rT^'
' ' Now^U^reatej^u^tan^e^ have AntitypTa/7 etc.
(Wpist. ad Wagnerium, c. 4). But created sub
stances are not then really the First Matter,
which must be conceived previous to Matter in
dividualized, and so having resistance. If God
.. be _the absolutely selMetermin^^Jiis^iiripD^ite
must be the absolutely determinable or Primeval

324 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Matter, which however is not something given
in (jrreek thought and even in Origen) but is

(1)) The Second Matter (materiel secunda, ves-
tita) of our philosopher is also called Mass or
Body "in which there is extension along with
resistance." This Second Matter comes from
the First Matter, the latter being now individual
ized, limited, made corporeal. Moreover, it is
the phenomenon, as it were the universal Iris
whose function is to appear. Hence the First
Matter does not consist in mass or impenetra
bility, or extension which properly characterize
the Second Matter; " thejjirst Matter is essen
tial to everjJVlonad or Soul and" cannot be sepa"-
rated from it ' ' li&ingjhe_very potentiality oTlt,
while the Second Matter as clothed (vestita),
specialized, phenomenal, can change. Hence it
comes that " God through his absolute power
can deprive a substance of Second ^Matter, but
not of the First," for, taking away all its poten
tiality, it would remain pure activity (actus purus)
which is Himself (Epist. ad Des Bosses, J\ro. 7).
This Second Matter may be compared to the
garments of the Harlequin, who remains the
same in putting on and off all his various
costumes.

^^e^osd^Miillfir^is, therefore, thejgalm of cor
poreality, of phenomena whjchjire_again3ivided

-by Leibni* inKn ^llL""'1 imaginary. With real

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. 325

phenomena, such as masses of matter, the prin
ciple of mechanism enters, since they determine
one another in a variety of ways externally,
whereby their relations become measurable.
Taken together, they form the grand mechanical
totality, which the Seventeenth Century particu
larly sought to determine.

(c) The material universe may thus be con
ceived as one vast world-machine, the working
of whose parts can be calculated and measured.
At this point mathematics, itself a grand cal
culating machine, must be developed and ap
plied. So it comes that the idea of Pan-mechan
ism dawns upon the human mind, which it
investigates and formulates mathematically.
"The machines of Nature, being machines everi
in their smallest parts, are indestructible, inas
much each little machine is enveloped by a larger
one, and this by a still larger, till infinity " (8ur
le Principe de Vie, Erdrnann, p. 431). God is the
ultimate maker and controller of this world-ma
chine; when He calculates and thinks, the world
arises ( Cum Deus calculat et cogitalionem exercet,
fit mundus. Erdinann, p. 77). God's thought
of the world is mathematical ; so it comes that
Science shows " how God has regulated things
(pondere, mensura, numero)," that is mathemat
ically. Thua the divinely creatiy

Universe is^Jojind-in Mathematics ideally con
structing the Pau-mechauism.

326 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.
,

Undoubtedly this conception comes from
1 cartes, whose God is mechanical, determining
.1 afl Things by fiat from without. We shall soon
see what limits Leibniz places upon this principle.
He says (Epist. de Rcb. Phil.) " adempta rebus
vi agendi, non posse eas a divina Substantia
distingui, incidique in Spinosismum." Thus
Leibniz plainly sees that Descartes logically
leads to Spinoza ; to avoid such an outcome he
develops his doctrine of Force which calls for
the Monad.

The statements of Leibniz about Matter scat
tered through many years and originating, in
many different occasions are by no means con
sistent. Particularly are his distinctions be
tween First and Second Matter fluctuating.
Still in a general way we^can see that his^irst
r is £otentialjj)assive, the primordial possi-
-the physical universe ; while his Second
is _active, real, is Body individualized,
a_nd so introduces the mechanical process of the
physical Universe, whose expression is properly
Mathematics. Thus we may put together his
conception which winds about through a good
many obscure and contradictory utterances.
But in this sphere all nature becomes one vast
machine, composed of many machines great and
small, whose controlling idea is the mathematical.
For when God starts to figuring, there springs
into being the Universe as Pan-mechanism.

L E1BNIZ . — PHYSIC 8. 327

Already MflittfT Va ffhr™" ° "JfiPrgt- innf-r

power of resistance, even when called inert, and
^also an active__en£rg^__goirig outwards as Body.
Now this activity, Leibniz will separate from its
material and look at by itself, calling it J[orc£.
wjiictt. .Jie._d^enis the essence of Matter . The
thought he might have derived from Spinoza,
who assigns to everything "the effort to perse
vere in its own being" (Eth. III. Prop. 6).
But it is Leibniz specially who abstracts and as
it were isolates this effort of all Nature, formu
lating and to a degree organizing it, and thereby
passing from a purely mechanical view of things
to a new stage which is next to be considered.

II. Force. On the whole this is the most im
portant physical conception of Leibniz and rep
resents a great stage in the movement of Science
and Philosophy. The scientists of to-day are
still dealing with Force, and it was Leibniz in
particular who made the transition from a me
chanical to a dynamical view of the universe,
though undoubtedly the idea of Force had been
philosophized upon before his time. Still it is
the most distinctive thing in the Leibnizian con
tribution to the World's thoughts about Nature.
Leibniz does not fail to give us some personal
glances into the evolution of this principle in his
own mind. In his Systeme nouveau de la Nature
he tells how he has dared to publish " these
meditations though they are not popular and not

• />

V

328 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

fit to be tasted by every sort of spirit." Mathe-
, ., matics and Philosophy he had studied from his
/\y youth. Modern authors " charmed me by their
beautiful methods of explaining nature mechan-
ically. But after trying to fully comprehend the
^ principles of Mechanics, in order to find the rea
son for the laws of Nature which experience
showed, I perceived that this consideration alone
V of the extended mass was not suificient, and that

it was necessary to employ in addition the notion
^K of Force." His stay at Paris ( 1672-6) with his

special study of Descartes at that time, laid the
foundation of these views which revealed the tran
sition out of the Cartesian Pan-mechanism into the
Leibnizian Pan-dynamism. "Jj>o IJxad-t£_recalI

forms (of the Scho

lastics), so decried to-day," giving them a new
meaning, so that their nature consisted in Force.
" From this it follows that they have something
analogous to feeling and appetite," they are a
kind of self or Ego (Monads).

Thus Leibniz has conceived his principle of
universal Force, but also the vast multiplicity of
Forces which he is to order into a world of their
own.

(a) As there is a First Matter, so there is a
First Force (vis primitiva agendi) «« which is the
immanent principle or law (of Nature), impressed
by divine decree" (De ipsa Natura, c. 12).
Upon the First Matter is to be impressed this

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. ' 329

First Force " in order to make it complete sub
stance." This First Force is also called the
First Entelechy by Leibniz, using an Aristote
lian term. But this First Entelechy is not simply
jtffixed to a particle of Matter, but is its principle
or law. " JCot-JEotter changes like a river, but
the Entelechy remains while the machine (or
movement) lasts'" {Epist. ad Des Bosses, No.
2). There is a second meaning of Entelechy in
Leibniz, equivalent to Monads, Souls, which
show the total process, or the First Entelechy
actualized.

Always passive Matter has an active principle,
says our philosopher in a well-known passage:
" I know not those vain, useless, inactive masses,
of which people talk. There is activity every
where^ no body without motion, no substance
without effort." Extension means Force, Re
pulsion means Force, all Nature is full of
Forces.

Thus the First Force differentiates itself into
a multiplicity of Forces, each of which has its
own life and even self.

(b) Hence it comes that Leibniz speaks so
often in the plural of Forces — real unities, sub
stantial points or forms, Monads, Entelechies.
This is the atomic side of the Leibuizian doctrine,
but hisjatoni is no^tjnejchiuiica i but dynamic. As
we saw Matter individualize itself in Bodies (the
Second Matter), so the First Force (vis primi-

330 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

fiva) jmjiyidualizes itself in Forces derivative,
which Leibniz classes under the head of Effort
(N'ouveaux Essais, Book II., c. 21), hinting of
Spinoza's conalus.

The world-machine above considered "has an
Entelechy adequate to itself, and this machine
contains other machines endowed with their own
adequate Entelechies, but these machines are in
adequate to the previous Entelechy " (Epist. ad
Des Bosses No. 2). Thus Leibniz seeks t® show
the dynamic element in his former Mechanism.
The world-machine has as its moving power
(Entelechy or Soul) a world-force, which drives
the wheels of the universe through its own inner
energy. The outer power has become inner
throughout the great Whole, and each little ma
chine generates its own Force, which, however,
minutely individualized, has unity, is indeed one
vast dynamic totality. Thus Leibniz has worked
through the Cartesian Pan-mechanism, which
makes even God a mechanical power, into Pan-
dynamism, which puts the moving energy inside
the object great and small and all. In the
physical universe he has asserted the idea of
immanence against the Cartesian transcendence,
unfolding on a line with Spinoza.

Thus Leibniz seeks to universalize Force,
making the universe its store-h<suse in the
whole and in each smallest part. Mechanical
externality of Motion must be supplemented by

LEIBNIZ. - PHYSICS. 331

dynamical internality of Force. He does not
throw away the Mechanics of Nature, but marks
its sphere as that of " the particular phenomena of
Nature which can be explained mathematically
or mechanically;" but on the other hand "the
general principles of Nature are metaphysical
rather than geometric," hence beyond mathemat
ics ; still further these general principles ' ' belong
rather to certain indivisible forms or entities as
the causes of the appearances than to the cor
poreal mass of extension" (Discours de Met.
35). Such an "indivisible form " is the Monad
which term Leibniz had not yet adopted at the
time of this Discours (1786). In this concep
tion of Force working in the smallest element
(Monad) and in the total universe, we are
again reminded of Spinoza whose adequate idea
is found " equally in a part and in the whole "
(Eth. II. 38). For the Leibnizian Force is
common to all things " and is conceived as
equally in the part and in the whole " — in the
Monad and in the All. This latter phase we may
now glance at.

(c) The totality of Force is always the same
in the universe and is always going — the amount
of it is one, not to be increased or dimin
ished, and so is eternally preserved. Great
stress is placed by Leibniz upon the conservation
of Force. "It is not the quantity of Motion
which is preserved, but that of Force. * * * There

332 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPH Y.

is preserved the same quantity of motor action
in the world; that is, in any given hour there is
as much motor action in the universe as in any
other hour." (LeMre a Mr. Bayle.) The uni
verse is a vast reservoir of Force which remains
the same in quantity. Descartes held that "the
same quantity of Motion is preserved in bodies,
but I have shown that the same moving Force is
preserved, for which he took the quantity of
Motion . " ( Edaircissement , etc . ) Thus Leibniz
put behind all Motion of , bodies their gener
ating Force which is the same in quantity, being
the essence of all things material, Such is his
conception of Pan-dynamism; all action, all mo
tion of bodies is the manifestation of Force
which is never lost, never diminished in quantity,
the reservoir being always full and receiving
back what it sends forth, without a drop ever
splashing out.

Thus Force has its process (like the Ego or
Moi) showing its immediate, separative, and
returning stages, and having "something analo
gous to feeling and appetite (or will). It is a
soul, which term is used by Leibniz in a very
wide sense, quite embracing the whole sweep
from Matter to Spirit.

Keally we get the idea of Force from our
own inner experience, from the Self or Soul,
which manifests itself in phenomena. Leibniz
says directly that we have to conceive these

LEIBNIZ — PHYSICS. 333

metaphysical atoms (Monads) after the image
of our souls. Then he calls them souls. We
think that he is on the point of passing into
psychology purely and making all things, "both
in the part and in the whole," a process of
the Ego, but he cannot give up his metaphys
ical wrappage. Great is his labor ; we feel like
shouting to him across two centuries, "Drop
your substantial forms, drop your metaphysical
atoms, fling away even your Monads and come
over to us." Vain is the exhortation, and yet
just listen to him. "This world is not a ma
chine as Descartes would make it. Everything
in it is force, soul, life, thought, desire;" if so,
why not make that your philosophy? " What
we see is the machine but this is only the out
side of Being." What is, then, the inside?
«( Being is that which itself sees " and also sees
itself. And yet Leibniz is unable to free his
Soul or Ego from its " metaphysical for in," but
subjects its process still to the Monad.

He has, however, reached the point of saying
the whole Universe is Soul both in its oneness
and in its inanyness . On this line we shall fol
low him out.

III. Soul. We have to think that Leibniz rose,
partially at least, above the dynamical into the
psychical principle, and endeavored to formulate
its process. The Soul is a return to Matter or
the outer manifestation of the inner Force;

334 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the Soul is the total process of the inner and
outer, or of Force and Matter, which are no
longer in a state of separation and opposition,
but are united in one movement, which is that
of Soul and Body. Says Leibniz : k* Soul is -the
principle of inner activity in the Monad, to
which the outer activity corresponds. "I This
correspondence of the external in the internal is
representation, which is also called perception
by Leibniz, as has been already set forth.

All that has been hitherto called Matter, and
all that has been hitherto called Force, is now
found to be Soul. To Leibniz the world was
one vast Soul made up of an infinite number of
Souls, greater and smaller. Thus the Mechan
ical and Dynamical had their essence and end in
the Psychical. The first two showed the work
ing of efficient or finite Causes. The last re
vealed the final Cause. Herein lay a mighty
thought which makes the Leibnizian doctrine
a very significant stage in the movement of all
Philosophy. The author sees and formulates,
even if dimly and fantastically, the principle that
there is the process of the Ego in everything,
and that the Universe is to be grasped as one
great process of the Ego, embracing and order
ing all other processes, minute and colossal.

Souls do not arise and pass away, being " in-
generable and imperishable." Each Soul is as
old as the world, " expresses the Universe, is as

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. 335

durable, as subsistent and as absolute as the Uni
verse itself." It is the indestructible unit of
individuality which can perish just as little as the
Universe which it represents. The succession of
the Soul's representations (more or less distinct
according to the nature of the given Soul) re
sponds naturally to the changes of the Universe
itself. " Immortality of the Soul belongs not
merely to man, but to the whole realm of Nature
through its monadal character ' ' ( Systeme nouveau,
c. 15, 16). Every Soul reflects the Infinite with
greater and greater distinctness, till God is
reached who is pure self-reflection (actus purus) ,
and so without body, which belongs to every
other Soul but God.

Thus Nature, according to Leibniz, rises to
Pan-psychism, the Universe from Matter up to
God is a Soul and is full of Souls. These are
manifold and of infinite gradation; still we may
find in Leibniz himself the authority for ordering
them in three main groups — the material Soul,
the organic or living Soul, the rational Soul or
Soul as Spirit.

(a) First we may glance at the material
Soul. " I accord an existence as ancient as the
world, not only to the Souls of animals, but in
general to all Monads ; and I maintain that
every Soul or Monad is always accompanied by
an organized body, which, however, is in a state
of perpetual change." (Lettre a Mr. Des

336 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Maizeaux.) We have already cited the Monad-
ologij where the author says that " there is a
world full of Souls in each particle of matter,"
or, taking a more moderate comparison, "each
particle of matter is like a garden full of plants
or a pond full of fish " (c. 66, 67). . There is
nothing dead in the universe, no Chaos, no confu
sion, but in appearance. So " there is an infinity
of creatures in the least portion of Matter"
(Theodicee. 195), active, self-moving Souls.

It is only through this conception that Leibniz
can see that each material part, however small,
belongs to the great Whole, to the Universe,
which it reflects in being Soul. If each particle
did not have its own movement or process rep
resenting the All, it would not belong to the
All, it would have to be a universe by itself.

The predominance of the passive element,
mere inertia (materia prima) drags down the
perceptive power of the Monad, which power is
properly its active Soul. On this account the
Soul or M®nad becomes passive and material,
when this First Matter has the upper hand and
blurs its power of representing the Universe.
But on the other hand a diminution of this First
Matter may allow the Monad or Soul to be self-
active; thus the latter is organic, moving itself
from within.

(b) The organic or living Soul rises above the
material Soul, since its representation of the

LEIBNIZ . — PHYSICS. 33 7

Universe is more distinct, hence higher. " Even
of living things there is an infinity of degrees "
in accord with the degrees of their representa
tions, " every Monad or Soul being a mirror of
the Universe after its fashion. ' ' Very important
for Leibniz as for Decartes is the relation between
Soul and Body. " The organic Body of a living
thing is a kind of divine Machine or a natural
automaton, which surpasses infinitely all artificial
automatons " or those which are merely mechan
ical. "For these living machines (or organic
Bodies) are still machines in their smallest parts,
till infinity" (Mon. c. 64, 65).

The automatic principle ory self -movement be
longs to the living body as'a whole, it is a Ma
chine which moves itself, and is composed of
an infinite number of self-moving machines. JChe
total organjc Monad, the living Body, is reflected
in~~"its 'self -movement by its countless atomic
[onads also self-moving (a curious anticipation
of the^eTTTrrrTrocIern Biology). Leibniz, there
fore, holds thai, the Body is a Soul, a stage of
monadal existence. There is thusltio difference
between them, and the Cartesian dualism of Soul
and Body vanishes.

There is much fluctuation in the numerous
statements of Leibniz regarding Soul and Body.
He was a reconciler, and often a trimmer ; it can
not be denied that he trims his doctrine in his
letters to suit his correspondents. To a Catholic

22

338 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

he seeks to explain how his principle of Monads can
comport with transubstantiation. His good Cath
olic friends, especially Des Bosses and Arnauld,
he wishes to win to his Philosophy ; the result is
he makes an adjustment of it to their religious
pre-suppositions, which may be very ingenious,
but which gives both to the man and his doctrine
an uncertain tinge. Just a little too much of
policy runs through his philosophic utterances.
Possibly here we may find a reason why he never
formulated his scheme in anything like a com
plete system. He would not compromise him
self: litera scripta manet . Thus his Philosophy
becomes so much plastic material in his hands,
always ready for a new form according to
circumstances.

(c) The third class of Souls Leibniz calls
Spirits. " When the Soul is elevated to Eeason
it is something more sublime (than the animal or
living soul) and it is counted among Spirits "
(Principes de la Nature et de la Grace, c. 4). It
is these Spirits or rational animals that know
necessary truths (like those of Mathematics and
Logic). Such Souls are also capable of reflexive
acts (self -consciousness) and they can consider
the Ego (Moi), or Spirit can look at Spirit
(Do. c. 5). This is what Leibniz calls Apper
ception, " which is not given to all Souls nor
always to the same Soul," for even the rational
Soul has its unconscious sphere.

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. 339

In fact, Leibniz seems to maintain the doctrine
that the self-conscious, rational Soul or Spirit
has developed from a previous and lower state.
Says he: "I believe that human Souls have
pre-existed, not as rational but merely as sensi- jBJ/J

tive Souls, which did not arrive at the higher
stage, that is, of Keason, till the man whom the
Soul was to animate, was conceived" (Lettre
a Des Maizeaux). This means that there is a
development from the organic or sensitive Soul
to the rational; but is there likewise a devel
opment of the material or inorganic Soul to the
organic? " Every Soul or Monad is subject to
continual changes, and these natural changes must
come from an internal principle , since no external-
influence can enter within it '\Mon. 10-11). We
can scarcely regard these statements as explicitly
affirming that there is an inner evolution from
the lowest to the highest, but such a doctrine
seems to be suggested.

Leibniz, however, rejects anything like Metem
psychosis or the Transmigration of Souls, which
" never quit all their body or pass into an en
tirely new body." Still there is Metamorphosis
or Transformation ; " souls are developed, envel
oped, despoiled, reclothed, transformed," all of
which means only change, not loss, of body.
The sensitive Soul with its body may develop
into the rational Soul with its body ; but such a
corresponding change in the organism is not the

340 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

work of Nature but of God Himself through
Pre-established Harmony. "God alone is de
tached wholly from body," being pure activity.
He is not the soul of the Universe, though he be
present everywhere ; he is the ruler or monarch
of it; he is the exception, the world is not his
body, but his machine.

Intimations of evolution seem to have been
started in some minds by the doctrine of Leib
niz. One of his correspondents, M. Reniond,
in a letter (1715) asks him: " By what means,
by what degrees can a central and dominant
Monad, which constitutes an animal at a certain
time, produce or even be at another time, Mr.
Leibniz himself? " This seems to call for
Darwin or indeed something beyond Dar
win. The answer of Leibniz has a curious
thought: "A perfect Intelligence (God) rec
ognizes for a long time in advance the future
inan in the present animal both as to soul and
as to body," since He has pre-established just
this evolution of both together in harmony.
This is not far from saying that the reciprocal
evolution of the soul and body of man from
lower animals belongs to the doctrine of Pre-
established Harmony.

At any rate the general outcome of Leibnizian
Physics is a Universe full of Soul, which has
been preceded by a Universe full of Force, and
still further back by a Universe full of Motion.

LEIBNIZ. — PHYSICS. 341

Underlying these three stages is not only an evolu
tion but a process since Soul takes up into itself
both Motion and Force, the external and internal,
culminating in its own self -returning process
within itself, called Apperception by Leibniz,
but usually known now as self -consciousness.

Looking back at the movement of Leibnizian
Physics we see that our philosopher has substan
tially undone the Cartesian dualism between Mat
ter and Mind by making the Universe all Soul,
rising through the principles of Pan-mechanism
or the Universe as moved from without, of Pan-
dynamism or the Universe as moved simply from
within, to Pan-psychism, or the Universe as self-
moved or self -reflect ing, of which the Ego or
Spirit is the culmination with its self-conscious
Reason.

But now what? Man as Spirit is " the image
of Divinity itself, or of the author of Nature,
being capable of recognizing the system of the
Universe, and of imitating somewhat of it
creatively" (Mon. c. 83). Thus a new sphere
arises in which man is to employ his Reason in
its supreme activity, reproducing the Universe
after the divinely creative power, of which he
has " an architectonic coruscation." Thus the
Soul as Spirit or Ego, returning upon itself in the
reflexive act or self-consciousness can return to
God, and re-think the thought of the Universe.

Already the rational Soul or Spirit seemed

342 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

to rise beyond the sphere of Physics proper, but
Leibniz connects it so closely with the two pre
vious stages, material and organic, that it could
not be well separated from them in an exposi
tion. But the Soul as rational not only is the
principle of nature and hence her lord, but knows
itself to be such. With this self-knowledge the
Soul can and must assert its primacy over Nature,
whereby it becomes ethical.

The object of Physics is attained when Nature
is Avheeled into line with the monadal Universe,
and has reached rational Man, who is still to go
forward in his ascent, but this ascent is like
wise a return to and participation in his Divine
Source.

C. ETHICS.

Leibniz has touched upon every leading phase
of Ethics, but his ideas here too are in the main
monadal, separated, disconnected. We find in
his various lucubrations something on the moral,
the institutional and the religious spheres, but
not joined together in any complete order.
In fact, if the Monad be taken strictly, it is hard
to see how Leibniz can have any Ethics, in the
fundamental form of this science. Man is a
Monad and God is the Monad of Monads ; in
what way then can any return of man to God take
place? The Monad has " no windows " through

LEIBNIZ. —ETHICS. 343

which anything can go out or come in, they have .
in strictness no mutual participation; thus the
ethical return in its wide sense seems quite
impossible. And yet Leibniz will at last bring
it about.

Moreover the Monad, in its complete isolation
and individualism, is supremely unsocial, each
having its own little world all to itself. How,
then, can Monads associate and form together
the realm of Social Institutions? Though Leib
niz was an official of the State, it is difficult to
see in what way a State could arise and exist in
his monadal universe. And so with all institu
tions, which come of human association. Still
also here the unexpected will take place.

Nay, if morals pertain to the conduct of
the individual toward other individuals and
toward the rest of the world, it is hard to
see how the Monad can be a moral being.
Man the Monad is set in order by the Supreme
Monad, and runs harmoniously with the rest of
the universe through a predetermined principle ;
his action, attuned to the movement of the All, can
not be called his own, and hence cannot be called
moral in the customary sense, being adjusted
primordially by and in a Pre-established Har-
monv . Such a Monad can hardly have Duty and
Responsibility in the matter of conduct, which
predicates are the basic ones for morality. Still
he will not fail to employ these predicates.

344 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Of these difficulties Leibniz himself is more or
less aware. Hence we may observe, when he
enters the ethical sphere in his writings, he
begins to shift, to tack about, and to re-adjust
his metaphysical sphere, in which he gave the
pure derivation and" conception of the Monad.
Thus a separation shows itself between his Meta
physics and his Ethics, which calls to mind that
of Spinoza, though in various respects different.
It must be confessed, however, that Leibniz in
the ethical sphere has not wholly overcome the
Spinozan dualism. In fact he sees or at least
dwells on only the monism (or metaphysical
part of Spinoza), not the dualism which appears
when the ethical portion of the Spinozan Norm
is considered. Thus the Ethics of Leibniz, from
the standpoint of his system as a whole, seems
to hang in the air.

The truth is, the return of the Monad to con
nection and harmony with God or the Monad of
Monads has already been made; it is the main
fact of the foregoing metaphysical sphere of the
Leibnizian Norm, as we have already set forth.
Thus Leibniz has in strictness no ethical return.
Still he, being a man learned in the history of
Philosophy, knew of Ethics as a philosophical
discipline from the ancients down to his own time.
He was also a jurist and a statesman, so that
Institutions came into his daily life and thought.
Moreover in spite of his formalism and even his

L EIBNIZ. — E TIIICS. 345

doubleness, we hold Leibniz to have been a relig
ious man, and hence his mind was much occupied
with God, Church, and Religion. He has left
writings in all these departments, but irregular,
unorganized, recalcitrant to his Monadology.

Such is the negative view of Leibnizian Ethics,
springing out of his Metaphysics of the Monad
as above set forth. But this is by no means
the whole of the ethical Leibniz, who has another
strand, even if contradictory to the preceding
metaphysical movement. It is this second strand
which, at first suppressed, rises to the surface
and in the end sings a song of triumph in the
City of God. Both sides must be seen in their
struggle, in their process and in their outcome
which is reconciliation, is that true Harmony
which, pre-established by God, returns and re
establishes Him and His work.

I. TPIE PSYCHICAL ELEMENT. — This must be
caught up and put together from many different
utterances of many years, for it is monadal like
everything Leibniz did, like his life and like him
self. There is a good deal of it, with numerous
variations, yet an underlying oneness of material
which is essentially plastic, capable of taking
many forms according to the occasion.

We have already noted that the Monad as a
metaphysical substance has in it a psychical pro
cess — Feeling the (Unconscious), Will (Ap-
petition) and Intellect (Perception). This must

346 MODERN E UK 0 PEA N PHIL 0 SOPHY.

be deemed the primal inheritance of Leibnizian.
Ethics, along with the doctrine of Pre-established
Harmon}7, both corning down from the Metaphy
sics of our philosopher. That is, we have on the
one hand the monadal Ego, internally self-active,
and so free ; on the other we have the inonadal
God, determining this Ego as subject to harmony
with the objective world. Thus the dualism be
tween the Determined and the Self-determined,
or between Necessity and Freedom rises with full
intensity in the Leibniziau Monad as Ego.

The science of Ethics is, in its complete sweep,
as we have often said, the Return to God, to the
Absolute Spirit on the part of the separated and
alienated Self or Monad. The ethical problem of
Leibniz is, then, to restore the monadal Self out
of its state of isolation and to make it, from
within and from without, an integral element of
the total Divine Process.

It is our judgment that Leibniz in the sphere
of the psychical, never succeeded in working him
self out of his dualism. Hence all his thoughts
upon this subject have a tendency to run double,
they go in pairs of contradictories, which he can
not fully bring together in reconciliation, or in
the unity of their process. Our exposition will
try to show this characteristic by unfolding along
the line of his main doubles. First, Feeling will
show itself as Pai(n and Pleasure; secondly, Will
as determined and free Will; thirdly, Intellect

LEIBNIZ. — E THICS. 347

as Evil and Good. Thus the psychical element is

seen to dualize itself in each stage of its process.

1. Pain and Pleasure. As these two feelings

o

enter into all our moral states, Pleasure being
** one of the principal points of Blessedness,"
while Pain is the accompaniment of Evil, they
are passingly defined by Leibniz. Pleasure is
" the feeling of rare perfection " (Letter to Ni-
caisse, 1698), or is "a sense of perfection"
(Def. Etli). On the other hand "Pain is the
feeling of imperfection," limitation, firiitude.
We may say, therefore, that in proportion as the
Monad can feel its passivity (or First Matter),
it is capable of Pain ; and in proportion as it can
feel its activity (or free Self) it is capable of
Pleasure. Limitation brought home to a free
(self-limited) being, is painful, but to transcend
such limitation must be pleasurable to its deepest
nature.

This idea of Pain and Pleasure comes from
Spinoza, who says: " Pleasure (Icetitia} is the
transition from a less to a greater perfection.
Pain (tristitia) is the transition from a greater
to a less perfection" (Uthica III., Prop. 59,
Def. 2 and 3). Spinoza puts stress upon the
movement (transition). Moreover we may note
wherein this perfection lies according to
Spinoza. It is "through our participation in
the divine nature ' ' whereby our actions become
more perfect as well as our knowledge of God

348 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

(Eth. II., Prop. 49, Scholium adfinem). This
thought will also deeply influence Leibniz, as
we shall see further on when we come to his
City of God. We should observe, too, that
Spinoza here shows his second or ethical stage of
the Norm, not his first or metaphysical. The
former was that portion of Spinoza which Leib
niz profoundly, and in part unconsciously, ap
propriated and transformed into his own system ;
but the latter or metaphysical portion he rejected.
In the preceding passage Spinoza conceives his
Ego (we) or Mode to ascend to and share in
God, which is not the Spinozan descent but
his ascent, the latter being the determining fact
of the Leibnizian Philosophy.

Feeling leads to Will, is indeed the potential
stage of activity ; to feel perfection (which is
Pleasure) leads us to will it, to make it real.
The Leibnizian view of Will reveals still more
deeply than Feeling the dualism in his psychical
thought.

2. Determinism and Freedom. Already in the
metaphysical portion the double character of the
Monad has been set forth, on the one hand free
and self-moving within and even self-conscious,
but on the other hand determined from without
by Pre-established Harmony and so necessitated.
No subject gave Leibniz more trouble, and on
none is he more two-edged. He calls it "a
famous labyrinth where our reason very often

LEIBNIZ. — E TRIGS. 349

goes astray." He seeks to distinguish the kinds
of freedom, and to define the term; at bottom
his labor seems to little purpose. " There is the
freedom which is opposed to the imperfection of
the spirit," to its passivity or passion, when it is
dominated by Nature or the First Matter. In
this sense God alone is free, being pure activity
Cactus purus). "Then there is the freedom
which is opposed to necessity," to external de
termination. But how can a thinker whose doc
trine is Pre-established Harmony through God,
vindicate man's freedom? Still Leibniz grapples
with the task and excogitates his doctrine of
contingency, which, he says, is the true oppo
site of necessity and not freedom. To go back
to the beginning, God chose among innumerable
sorts of worlds, to create the best possible
one which is ours. But God was under no
necessity to make just our kind of a world,
unless we call his a moral necessity to choose
the best. This is not the metaphysical necessity
like that of Spinoza. Still if we grant this free
dom to God, has man, the created, the pre-estab
lished, any of it? Leibniz tries to say yes, and
declares that all human action is contingent, the
opposite being logically possible. Still it is
really impossible. Says he: " All things are cer
tain and predetermined in man as in everything
else, and the human Soul (or Ego) is a kind of
spiritual automaton" (T/i. 54). Very curious

350 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

is his shifting from necessity to inclination or con
tingency : " In Adarn there was no moral neces
sity of sinning, but only this, that the inclina
tion to sin prevailed in him." He followed inclin
ation or the stronger motive, but could he help
himself? Hear the next sentence : " There was
a certain pre-deterrnination (in Adam's sin) but
no necessity. ' ' He might have done the opposite,
still he could not help himself. So Leibniz will
give us a determined contingency for freedom
instead of downright necessity. Ideally you
are free, but really you are not. The Monad
may be free within itself (though this can be
questioned), but in the world it must be deter
mined. What, then, is freedom worth?

Leibniz sought to transcend the immediate
capricious Free- Will of Descartes ; he also sought
to circumvent the determinism of Spinoza. But
in the latter case he hardly succeeds meta
physically, though in the ethical sphere we shall
be able later to chronicle a success (see the doc
trine of association of the Monads). The ada
mantine chain of Spinozan Necessity was too
strong for Leibniz, he could not quite break it
nor shake it off. And the reason is, in our
opinion, because he sought to overthrow it di
rectly, by counter-argument, and then by com
promise. But really it overthrew him. Still
we must remember his protest with hand
stretched to Heaven even while he is sinking

LEIBNIZ. — E THICS. 35 1

under the waves of Spinoza's all-devouring
Ocean.

But Will must have a content, something
must be willed, " we do not will to will." At
this point a new pair of moral terms appears,
yet very old, coming to the Will from Intellect,
according to Leibniz.

3. Evil and Good. Three kinds of Evil (and
also of Good) are distinguished by our philoso
pher: metaphysical (imperfection or limitation),
physical (suffering), and moral (sin). There
can be little doubt that the first is the source of
the other two. Evil is the negation of perfec
tion, and this negation is nothing else than the
lack of clear and distinct ideas or perceptions.
'* There is an original imperfection in the crea
ture, since he is limited in knowledge and can be
mistaken," from which fact spring all his de
linquencies. Leibniz takes pains to controvert
the position of Descartes that the source of
error lies in the Will more than in the Intellect
(see preceding p. 112). Moreover with Des
cartes the Will in its freedom is the unlimited,
while the Intellect is the limited; but with Leib
niz the Intellect in its clear perceptions possesses
the element of the unlimited, while the Will must
be finite from its being determined. The Leib-
nizian Will has apparently no power of re-acting
against the suggestions of Intellect with its
erroneous judgments. Descartes gives it the

352 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

power of resisting them. Leibniz has to say
that if we always judged aright, we would act
aright; if our intelligence were perfect, our
conduct would be perfect.

We read in his Abridgment of the Theodicy :
"God is infinite, and the Devil is limited; Good
may and does ad vance ad infinitum, while Evil
has its bounds. " If this were carried out, the
Devil ought to be the First Matter, purely pas
sive, simply inert: which would certainly over
throw his supposed power in the world. " The
blessed approach Divinity, and make such
progress in the Good as is impossible for the
damned to make in Evil " (see Duncan's Leib
niz,^. 196). Progress in the infinite has un
doubtedly far greater potentialities than progress
in the finite.

At this point it can be seen what a hubbub
Leibniz would be sure to call up around his ears.
For instance, the idea that the Devil might be
Pure Matter, without activity, would assuredly
not be in favor with a certain class of theolo
gians, who had been fighting the arch-fiend all
their lives in a. kind of ever-lasting drawn battle.
And we hold they would be right. One might
as well reduce the Devil to Pure Space, and be
done with him, as another philosopher once did.
But when such a controversy, especially a reli
gious one, waxes hot, Leibniz the reconciler, the
compromiser, the grand intellectual acrobat of

LEIBNIZ. — E TRIGS. 353

the age begins his marvelous contortions, his
double somersaults through an intricate array of
definitions, distinctions and explanations, in
which he says that what he says means some
thing different from what he says. In these
excursions there is no need of following him, for
the simple reason that it is impossible to believe
him, or to believe that he believes himself. Of
course this tendency is the weak, perchance the
weakest, spot in a great man.

The Intellect returns to Feeling (the first psy
chical stage) and includes Pain and Pleasure in its
Evil and Good. This is indicated in the following
passage: " The6rOOcZ is what is proper to produce
and increase Pleasure in us, or to abridge and
diminish some Pain. Evil is proper to produce
or increase Pain in us, or to diminish some
Pleasure." Then Feeling leads to Activity, to
Will, whose content is furnished by Intellect.
Thus the psychical round of the Mind is com
pleted in its ethical phase, showing each of its
three stages dualized in pairs of opposites.

Evil, then, belongs to the Intellect, and con
sists in the absence of clear perceptions in the
monadal Ego. God is the presence of such per
ceptions. Hence God is supremely good, be
cause He is perfect in perception, or knowledge.
The good man is good by virtue of sharing in
this divine perfection of perception, and men are

23

354 MODERN E UBOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

graded in goodness according to the different
degrees of it in their intellect.

Hence arises an inseparable connection in Leib
niz between Morals and Eeligion. An inde
pendent science of Duty is not the Leibnizian
morality. For this reason these two principles
(moral and religious) must be considered to
gether.

II. THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS ELEMENT. —
If God makes man moral by giving him distinct
perceptions, and also grades man's morality by
grading his preceptions, morality vanishes in the
divine act and becomes religion. This result,
however, Leibniz does not like, it savors too
much of Spinozan necessity, of which, however,
he could never fully rid himself, and with which
we see him in a perpetual struggle. So he in
jects, or, we might say, smuggles into his deter
mined, pre-established Monad as Ego, a limited
quota of self-determination, so that it can,
apparently through itself, suppress Passion and
Appetite, and thus have some morality of the
traditional kind.

In the writings of Leibniz we find many echoes
of what Descartes and Spinoza have said of the
Passions and Emotions. Some of these he has
defined specially in his own way. Also he has
listed the virtues with accompanving explana
tions. All this is done in his individualistic
manner, in separate shots hitting and missing.

LEIBNIZ. — E THICS. 355

His general view of the moral universe may be
illustrated by the following extracts from the
Theodicee (147): " God plays with those little
Gods (so to speak) whom He has seen fit to
create." Such a " little God is man, in his own
world or microcosm, which he governs after his
own fashion," namely with Free- Will which the
Creator has given him " permitting him to range
freely in his own department." One asks here,
How can such a Monad of a man be moral, all to
himself? Still our little God " does wonders in
his little sphere ; " but also «« he is guilty of great
faults, because he abandons himself to his pas
sions, and because God abandons him to his
senses." Such misdeeds of his, however, can
only be done to himself, not to his neighbor, not
to institutions, nor to God, in monadal strictness.
Still " God punishes him for them, now as a
father or preceptor chastising his children, now
as a just judge punishing those who abandon
him." Thus our philosopher injects into his
Monad Free-Will and Responsibility for the deed,
which do not belong to its constitution meta
physically, as it is set in order and runs accord
ing to Pre-established Harmony.

Moreover it is evident that the Pre-established
Harmony, through Free-Will and its evil con
duct has become inharmonious. This difficulty
Leibniz recognizes and tackles in the following
fashion: "God, by a marvelous artifice, turns

356 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

all the defects of these little worlds into the
greater ornamentation of his large World."
What a cunning fellow God must be, quite equal
to Leibniz himself, as the supreme diplomat,
permitting all the little courtiers their Free-
Will, yet turning all their cabals against him
and their meanness into the universal har
mony of the State. This Leibnizian note runs
through the whole Theodicee: God is the
adroit manager of all these willful Monads per
petually doing evil and making discord which he
skillfully turns into the universal concord. '• So
the apparent deformities of the little World
are re-united in the beauties of the great World
and show no opposition to the unity of the one
Principle, universal and infinitely perfect; on
the contrary, these little worlds just in their
deformities augment our admiration of divine
Wisdom which makes evil serve for the greatest
good." Such is the famous Leibnizian optimism,
a very fragile part of the man if he be really in
earnest about it, which we cannot help doubting
at times, for the thing sounds just a little too
comic. Let those who may, be edified by such
pious reflections, which are drawn out to an
appalling length in the Theodicee.

From the foregoing citations it is manifest
that Religion is very closely interwoven with
Morals in Leibniz. God alone has clear and dis
tinct knowledge, hence he is the wholly free being

LEIBNIZ. — ETHICS. 357

and thus supremely moral. Man in like manner
has liberty, in so far as he knows clearly and
distinctly. His reason is the source of his
morality, while his senses, having confused
ideas, are the source of servitude and evil. If
he knows God truly, he has clear and distinct
ideas and is moral. Thus knowledge is the good
and ignorance is the evil. Herein Leibniz goes
back quite to Socrates who identified knowledge
and virtue. Evil appearing to be good to our in
telligence deceives us, and leads us into wicked
ness, for no person is willingly bad — he
mistakes or is ignorant.

It is always worth while to keep in mind
what a part is played in the Philosophy of the
Seventeenth Century by the doctrine of " clear
and distinct ideas . " It was started by Descartes ,
retained by Spinoza, and still further elaborated
by Leibniz. But all hold that a clear and dis
tinct idea is God's and is the connecting principle
between the human and the divine minds. It
belongs to Reason and is what makes Morality
and Religion, man and God, rational.

The dualism of the Monad is also divine, and
so there are two different or rather opposite
conceptions of God in Leibniz, each of these
conceptions having several distinct shades or sub
divisions. As the Monad of Monads he must be
in isolation like the simple Monad, having no
windows ; as supreme he must be the most in-

358 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

dividualistic of all Monads. Still he has to
perform one action at the start, even if inactive
afterwards: he must pre-establish Harmony
among the Monads. Another turn of the same
thought declares that he is this pre-established
Harmony, and thus is continually bringing it
forth. These are variations in the metaphysical
Monad as God.

On the other hand, God is declared to be the
creator of Monads, which are conceived to be
the products of Divine Will ; thus the Monad
of Monads has " a window," and communicates
himself freely to a world of his own creation.
But such creation is again spoken of as a kind of
emanation or Neo-Plato nic overflow of God into
the Monads which come forth " by the continual
figurations of the Deity from instant to
instant," which do not appear to be acts of
creation. At any rate instead of divine isolation
we have here divine communication, which makes
some kind of a return to God possible and hence
is ethical in the wide sense of the term. It can
not be denied, however, that Leibniz has a pan
theistic tinge in his conception of God, in fact he
is both theistic and pantheistic.

Leibniz postulates Free-Will in the realm of
Morals and Keligion, yet it must have its content
given by Eeason, so that it is not capricious.
But in the purely metaphysical sphere the Monad
cannot have Free-Will, since it is determined by

LEIBNIZ. — ETHICS. 351)

Pre-established Harmony. Here again, in the
matter of liberty we note the contradiction
between the Ethics and the Metaphysics of
Leibniz, who injects from the outside a Free-
Will into the Monad. Is Leibniz a necessitarian
or a libertarian? It is a disputed question, but
really he is both, he is the one in Metaphysics,
the other in Ethics.

Thus Leibniz seeks in his way to rescue, par
tially at least, Free- Will. Next we shall look at
him taking a still greater step, even if incon
sistent with his previous system. He actually
affirms the association of " spirits or reasonable
beings," between whom and ordinary souls or
Monads, there is a great difference. For these
spirits are not merely images of the universe in
general, but they are in addition "images of
God Himself, capable of knowing the universe,"
of consciously turning back upon it and of re
producing it in thought, or of building it over
again by "architectonic coruscations" of the
divinely creative energy. Now we reach the re
sult: "it is this capacity which makes spirits
(or reasonable beings) capable of entering into
a kind of association with God," and through
Him with one another. " Thus God is no longer
in their regard such as is an inventor in relation
to his machine, but such as is a prince to his
subjects, orevena father to his children" (Mon.
83, 84). What now has become of God as the

360 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

mechanical orderer of the Monads, or as the pre-
established harmonizer of all things? He has
created a Monad which is not simply to be put
into order from the outside, but which can turn
back and in some part reproduce the divinely
creative act of God Himself. Such a Monad can
now associate with God and with its fellow
Monad — wherewith we enter a new stage.

III. THE INSTITUTIONAL ELEMENT. — Thus
rises to view the supreme conception of Leibniz :
the City of God, which is " the assemblage of
the spirits," in a community, and which consti
tutes " the most perfect State possible, under
the most perfect of Monarehs." Such is the
glimpse, and it is but a glimpse, a gleam, re
vealing like a flash of lightning the Heavenly
City in outline. It is not developed, not de
scribed; it comes with a sudden explosion, mo-
nadal, dynamic, Leibnizian — and then darkness.
The aged philosopher here ascends to the highest
pinnacle of his genius and views for a moment
(at the end of the Monadology) the future, like
Moses on the mountain beholding before he
dies, the promised land. Thus Leibniz sees, in
the clouds to be sure, the City of God, but did
he also see, with his new principle of associa
tion, that he would have to reconstruct his
whole system of Philosophy from the beginning?

In this conception Leibniz draws deeply upon
the past as well as looks out upon the future.

LEIBNIZ. — ETHICS. 361

First we think of Saint Augustine's Civitas Dei,
which, however, goes back to Plato for many of
its lineaments. Thus Leibniz too, like so many
philosophers, ancient and modern, had an ideal
State hovering before him, a kind of Monadopolis,
in which the Monads exchange their isolation for
association. It need hardly be said that this is
just the reverse of their character as set forth in
the metaphysical portion of the Leibnizian Philos
ophy. Thus, however, a universal institutional
world hovers before him as the ethical outcome
of his system, appearing already in his Dis-
cours de Metaphysique (36, 37), whereby God
"humanizes himself" and enters "into social
relations with us." Thus he answers himself,
in fact transcends himself into a new Philos
ophy. " This City of God, this universal
monarchy, is a moral world in the natural
world;" yet it is more than moral, it is in
stitutional. "It is by virtue of this divine
City that God reveals his goodness, rather than
his wisdom and power which are shown every
where " (Mon. 86). Thus there is also a trans
formation of God who may now be called
good for the first time, through the Insti
tution. Truly Leibniz has not only moralized
but institutionalized God Himself, who is,
therefore, to be considered not simply as
" the architect of the machine of the universe "
(which he is for the lower Monads of the

362 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

Kingdom of Nature), but he is also " the
sovereign of the divine City of Spirits" (who
belong to the Kingdom of Grace). Thus He is
the principle of all human association, the central
source of the Social Institutions of Man, who
accordingly requites Him with " pure Divine
Love, which causes us to take pleasure in the
supreme happiness of that which we love." It
is this Love of God which makes " all wise and
virtuous persons act in conformity to the Divine
Will," that is, they will the Will of God not as
arbitrary but as institutional, or, in Leibnizian
phrase, as " the Sovereign of the Divine City "
(Mon. 86-90).

Still even for this City of God, in which all
are associated through Divine Love, the sugges
tion is found also in Spinoza. Says he: " This
Love toward God cannot be soiled by envy or
jealousy ; but it is the more fostered, the more
men we conceive to be joined with God in the
same bond of Love" (V. Prop. 20). Such is
the hint, not developed by Spinoza; but we have
the right to say that he was going toward the
City of God when he died. The second or
ethical portion of his great work (the JZthics)
moves also in the same direction, as has been
already indicated, and this was the portion which
especially influenced Leibniz.

Nevertheless, with this institutional outline of
the grand Republic, or rather Monarchy of

LEIBNIZ. — ETHICS. 363

Spirits, which signifies the association of rational
beings in a world of Institutions, Leibniz takes
a distinct step in advance of Spinoza, who
though supremely an institutional man (naturally
more so than Leibniz) never quite succeeded in
working out and formulating his principle of
association. So he was as yet unable to make
definitely the transition from the moral to the
institutional sphere, though he was certainly far
on the way thereto, being prevented by his early
death, as we have often to say to ourselves in
pathetic retrospect.

It must also be acknowledged that the Leib-
nizian Pure Love of God as institutional, that is
of God, as founder and ruler of the Divine
City which is the center and source of all asso
ciation, is a more concrete and loftier conception
than the Spinozan Intellectual Love of God,
which remains an individual relation, and hence
is moral or subjectively religious, but not insti
tutional. Through his form of Divine Love
Spinoza does not explicitly bring his fellow-men
into association with one another, and thereby
call forth Institutions. To be sure, Leibniz does
not develop his conception of Divine Love, he
holds it by no means with a firm mental grip,
sometimes he grasps and sometimes he does not
seem to grasp its institutional side, but keeps it
as individual as Spinoza's (compare the two
statements of Love pure, veritable, in the Monad-

364 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ology and in the Principes de la Nature et de la
Or ace).

Thus it would seem that Leibniz has risen be
yond his metaphysical system which has become
an incumbrance to him, a sort of shell which
once subserved a purpose, but which now bur
dens him, having outgrown it quite when he
enters the City of God. Unconsciously he has
sloughed it off, though he still seeks to carry it
along in his ascent to his new world. He cannot

o

yet part from his metaphysical edifice, even
when he passes into the future, but the coming
century will smite it and shivei it to pieces.

At this point the ethical stage of Leibniz comes
to its conclusion and with it the entire Norm —
Metaphysics, Physics and Ethics — as manifested
in his Philosophy. It is to be noted that the
ethical stage in the end overcomes the isolated
metaphysical Monad (of the first stage) which
becomes socialized through God. In Spinoza
likewise we observed the Mode rising above its
merely phenomenal metaphysical stage. Thus
the Monad (and also the Mode) undoes itself
along with the entire monadal order, whereby the
whole domain of the Metaphysics of the Seven
teenth Century has risen through its own inner
movement into a stage beyond itself, of which
we shall hear in the coming Century.

Moreover with the conclusion of the Leib-
nizian Philosophy, the philosophical movement

LEIBNIZ. — E THICS. 365

of the entire Century has concluded itself. The
main problem of this Century we may formulate
in this wise : How can I (Ego) be made to know
the object? The answer is through God in some
way, and the three ways give the three Philoso
phies — Cartesian, Spinozan, and Leibnizian.

There is a famous illustration of the two
clocks belonging to the whole period, from Des
cartes down. We cite here the turn which
Leibniz (Erdmann, p. 133) gives to it: " Imag
ine two clocks which agree perfectly. Such
agreement can be brought about in three ways :
1st, by mutual influence; 2nd, by a workman
who keeps both together at every moment; 3rd,
by constructing the two clocks so accurately that
they move in accord continuously. Put now soul
and body in place of those two clocks. The first
way is that of vulgar philosophy ; the second is
that of continual assistance of the Creator ; the
third is that of Pre-established Harmony, which
is my hypothesis."

This comparison of two clocks had been used
before by Descartes, by Geulinx and also by
others. It is a distinct Cartesian inheritance,
and has now descended to Leibniz who readjusts
it to his own doctrine. This one comparison
reflects the whole movement of the philosophy
of the Seventeenth Century in its various stages.
For in that century God is the grand clockmaker
fixing and keeping in order the two clocks of the

366 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Universe which represent its dualism. The
great thinkers of that period — Descartes, Spi
noza, and Leibniz — assign to God the task of
uniting Thought and Extension, Mind and Matter,
Soul and Body. But each philosopher makes
God perform this task in a different way . In
Descartes He does it by fiat, in Spinoza by mak
ing the two sides consubstantial, in Leibniz by
Pre-established Harmony.

From this illustration we can see the mechan
ical and hence the mathematical bent of the
time. The function of God is conceived by the
Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century in a
mathematical fashion. For this reason Spinoza
is peculiarly the expression of his age: he
adopted the geometric method for his Phi
losophy. He applied the science of exten
sion (Geometry) to mind, inasmuch as we
have no science of the mind as such.
The two attributes of Substance are ex
tension and mind, which must be, there
fore, consubstantial. Hence Geometry must
be the principle of mind through the common
Substance. Herein, too, we may note the
pantheistic tendency: Mathematics is the Sub
stance of the phenomenal world of forms, con
trolling it by an inherent necessity. The world
mathematically follows from the definition of
God, who does not create but is the world;
as cause of it, he is simply causa sui. Hence

LEIBNIZ —ETHICS. 367

there is a monistic and even pantheistic
tinge in Geometry, which reduces all the multi
plicity of nature to the one abstract process of
point, line and surface. Spinoza declares that
there can be no truth without Mathematics, God
Himself or Substance being mathematical.

The implicit separation between the trans
cendent and the immanent spheres, which
runs through the Seventeenth Century, and
which were held together by Leibniz with
great difficulty and doubtful success, becomes
an explicit acknowledged separation in the
Eighteenth Century, and is expressly formu
lated as that between the unknowable and the
knowable. It is still the modern problem of
the Ego knowing the object, but this takes
place no longer through " the concourse of
God," whch is now to be relegated to a realm
outside of the knowledge of the Ego.

I art

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.—
REVOLUTION.

The general character of the Eighteenth Cen
tury is that of re-action against what has been
transmitted in thought and institutions. The
human mind, though active in the preceding
Century and asserting itself, still adopted for its
expression the formulas coming down from the
past. The Eighteenth Century is a revolt on the
part of the human Self against the swaddling
clothes in which it has been wrapped from ages
immemorial. It proposes to tear them off and
even to burn them up. It is, therefore, the
revolutionary Century of our modern time, if
not of all time.
(368)

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUEY. 369

Its declared, explicit attitude is, accordingly,
negative. It assails and seeks to destroy what is
established at times with a ferocity which has
rarely had a parallel. But underneath this neg
ative energy there is secretly at work a positive,
constructive spirit which is preparing the new
order. Both these forces, the open negative and
the latent positive, go together and cannot be
neglected in any adequate exposition of this
Century or of its Philosophies.

The manifestation of such a negative might in
Philosophy is what is known as Skepticism.
Man becomes skeptical of truth, of all thought,
indeed of himself. From the philosophic point
of view the Eighteenth is the great skeptical
Century, in which the whole objective realm be
gins to grow unreal and become a phantasm.
The World-Spirit itself seems to turn skeptic.
To be sure the History of Philosophy shows
other periods of Skepticism. The old Greeks
started it as they did nearly everything else good
and bad. But Mephistopheles, " the spirit that
denies," appears never before to have gotten such
a complete grip on a whole Century.

I. If we look at the European political History
of the Eighteenth Century, we find that it lies,
both in its outer sweep and in its inner signifi
cance, between two great epoch-making Revolu
tions — the English Revolution of 1688 and the
French Revolution beginning about one hundred

24

370 MOD ERN EURO PEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

years later. They form the revolutionary set
ting of the whole Century, and constitute the
most striking, the most overwhelmingly spectacu
lar expression of its very soul.

The Revolution of 1688 in England made a
dynastic change at the command of the English
people. The House of Stewart was deprived
of its regal inheritance by the new power, and
another line of rulers was put in its place. Thus
the established right was set aside ; the inherit
ance coming down from the fathers and intrenched
in law was annulled in England, and soon came to
be questioned everywhere in Europe. By this
act England places herself at the head of the
world-historical movement of the age. Her
character is action, and she has acted with deci
sion. Thus we may say that her revolutionary
deed in 1688 is a typical deed, deeply forecasting
the future. In the beginning of the Seventeenth
Century the transmitted thought of the age was
denied, but England passes at once to action
and denies the transmitted right of the ages, and
summons it before a higher tribunal. Thereby
she really opens the Eighteenth Century as far as
any special opening can be designated . The result
is Philosophy crosses the channel from the Teu
tonic continent where it has dwelt for a century,
and an Englishman, John Locke, becomes the
philosopher of Europe.

It is true that England only changed from one

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 371

dynasty to another; the dynastic principle, long
inherited and deeply ingrown with her national
life, she preserved, to be sure with certain strict
limitations. But after a hundred years the sec
ond great and greatest Kevolution of Europe
takes place in France which seeks to destroy root
and branch the dynastic principle along with the
total inheritance of the ages. The world has
been all wrong hitherto, particularly its estab
lished rights, its law; so France proposes to wipe
out the entire past and to begin over again.
Thus the Eighteenth Century expires in the
most tremendous negative act in all history, if
we take into acc'ount its brevity and its com
pleteness. That a new positive order lay ger
minating in this destructive energy is never to be
forgotten.

Such are the two tone-giving European Revo-
lutions of the Century, but we must not fail to
note that there was a third extra-European Revo
lution which took place during the same Century,
and which was at bottom the true positive solu
tion of this negative epoch of Europe. The
American Kevolution also rejected the dynastic
principle and in its stead advanced to the new
principle of government in the Constitution of
the United States. But another Century, the
nineteenth, will have to pass, before any such
fact can be generally recognized and thus weave

372 MODERN- EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

its strand into the historic evolution of civiliza
tion.

II. The Wars of Europe during the Eighteenth
Century have the same general cast : they are
chiefly dynastic struggles in which the prin
ciple of monarchical inheritance falls into con-
flct with itself and largely destroys its own valid
ity. The two chief wars openly turn on the right
of dynastic Succession : so we have the wars of
the Spanish and the Austrian Succession. Legiti
macy assails legitimacy, and really undermines
itself. The two dynasties which had most stren
uously maintained the supreme privilege of birth
in their own respective lines, were the Bourbons
and the Hapsburgers. Now these two houses fall
out with each other and quarrel over their in
heritance, each side claiming lands and peoples
as their birthright. These personal quarrels of
sovereigns convulsed Europe for the greater part
of the Eighteenth Century.

The war of the Spanish Succession (1701-14),
starting with the century, was a great training
for all Europe, educating it to disregard legiti
macy. Louis XIV. was the leader ; the most hide
bound defender of the divine right of kings, he
did most to destroy it by violating it everywhere
for what he deemed his own interest. In him
royalty destroyed royalty. At first this took
place in other countries; but finally his negative
act must come back to his own France and slay

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 373

the representative of his own House. The peace
of Utrecht (1714) already contains the germs of
the French Revolution. Legitimacy denies itself,
recognizing that something mightier than it is,
has it by the throat and uses it as a means.

Toward the middle of the century arose the
war of the Austrian Succession, repeating in
Teutonic lands substantially the same lesson.
The established right of birth is questioned,
denied ; the State is no longer merely a royal per
quisite. Kingly privilege has been overthrown
by kings ; title by birth cannot stand in the way
of another and mightier title.

It is manifest 'that the supreme institutional
conflict of the Eighteenth is different from that
of the Seventeenth Century. During the latter
we saw the struggle of Religions, the Latin
against the Teutonic. But at present the relig
ious contest has receded into the background ;
the dual Church, Protestant and Catholic, is
acknowledged as a fact by both parties. Divi
sion now enters the Catholic side and splits
asunder its two chief defenders, the Bourbons
and the Hapsburgers, not on a religious but on a
political question. The outcome is that each
undermines the legitimacy of the other; each
assails the established order of succession coming
down from the past, while pretending to main
tain it.

Thus it comes that right itself as transmitted

374 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

down the ages is made to contradict itself. For
each party trumps up a claim supported by a
long string of precedents, for the purpose of
justifying its view of its own case. The double
line of soldiers in battle array has as its coun
terpart a similar double line of jurists in battle
array. Thus right has divided within itself and
gives the lie to itself, and certainly proves one
thing: the truth of its own self-contradiction.

Such is the general condition of old Europe,
Latin and Teutonic, moribund, in a state of self-
negation which means Revolution. But is there
no positive principle lurking in this mass of
national decay? Already in the North a new
State has been slowly evolving, Teutonic and
Protestant. This is Prussia whose greatness
has been built upon the ruins of legitimacy.
In 1701 the Duke Frederick III. makes
his country a kingdom, wrenching his new
title from Austria as the price of his sup
port. The next king, Frederick William I.,
strengthens the army and organizes the new
State into a huge fighting machine. Those giant
grenadiers of his have been much laughed
at, but they are truly typical of the coin
ing Prussia. He never uses his implement, but
hoards up a vast reservoir of power for his
successor who will use it with tremendous en
ergy. This successor is none other than
Frederick the Great, who starts with seizing

TEE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 375

Silesia (1740), certainly in violation of long-
established right. To be sure Frederick also
can play the European game of digging up some
antiquated claim from the dusty legal documents
of the past. Johann Peter von Ludewig, Pro
fessor of Jurisprudence at Halle, will refute all
established rights in favor of this right of
Frederick, very old and yet very new. The
Kantian antinomy has indeed entered the realm
of right, since each side proves the complete
validity of its claim, yet the two claims are di
rectly opposite. The result is the Silesian Wars,
at the end of which Frederick holds Silesia, to
the decided defeat of legitimacy. He is the
great revolutionist of his time, though a king,
whose prerogative rests upon the destruction of
prerogative. He founds the new European State,
whose royal title springs from the denial of royal
title. And yet Prussia will continue still to
assert strongly royalty and legitimacy, and that
is just the Prussian contradiction to-day.

Kant is truly the philosopher of this epoch.
His conflict of the Antinomies is named after
and directly taken from the conflict of Laws,
which we have just designated. Intellect has
thus become inherently self-contradictory and
self -annulling. Such is the fierce criticism of the
Eighteenth Century handed down to us by Kant.
What is to be done? His answer is: Fall
back upon Will, upon the assertion of your

376 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Ego's power, for your Intellect is a hopeless
maze of bewilderment. That is what Fred
erick the Great actually did. The strong man,
the strong nature alone can settle this con
fusion, this approaching cataclysm in which all
Europe threatens to be submerged. In fact the
law of inheritance can no longer be allowed to
control; if you go back far enough, every royal
House and many of the nobility, and some of
the common herd, can make out a claim for king
doms as their birthright. Moreover, provinces
and whole peoples can no longer be made a foot
ball with which monarchs play against one an
other the game of legitimacy. The whole thing
must stop by an act of Will, the imperial, truly
the Kantian imperative.

III. Such we see to be the external manifes
tation of the Spirit of the Eighteenth Century
in the events of History. In correspondence
with this spirit we shall behold the individual
turning against his philosophical inheritance and
denying it in the interest of his free Self. It
was no accident that England was the chosen
arena for this new beginning. For nature her
self has individualized England, making it an
island, yet large enough for a nation, truly the
island-nation, isolated, separated from the con
tinental mass of nations with their undefined and
ever-changing boundaries. England is, there
fore, the natural home of individuality, the real

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTUIiY. 377

monadal land, full of Monads and itself a Monad,
or indeed the Monad of all national Monads. Yet
with the metaphysical shell of Leibnizian monad-
ism England and her philosophy can have nothing
to do ; that is just what they will break to pieces
and fling away, asserting the Ego in its own
naked right, without being dressed up in its
monadal trappings, which really hide it from the
English mind. Such is, in general, the act of
Locke, veritably the English philosopher, philos
ophizing against Philosophy the transmitted,
and asserting his Ego as the determining center
of thought for the future.

When William of Orange, Stadtholder of Hol
land, passed over the channel and made himself
king of England with the consent of its people,
there was enacted a great historic deed, typical,
universal, reflecting the movement of European
civilization. He destroyed the dynastic idea of
mere inheritance and thereby founded a new dy
nasty. Philosophy left the Continent with him
and kept its headquarters in Great Britain till its
negative work was completed in Hume, when
it was brought back by Kant to the new con
tinental State, Prussia, where it was destined
to celebrate its greatest modern triumph. Such
was its extraordinary leap from the extreme
West to the extreme East of Teutonic Europe,
from the Anglo-Saxon to the German at Konigs-
berg, as if making ready for a supreme at-

378 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

tempt to philosophize the spirit of the whole
Teutonic race. And that is just what will be
done in the coming Nineteenth Century.

Such is the vast spatial stride of Philosophy,
turning back from the Western boundary of
its modern supporters to their primitive seat
in the East, thus overarching all Teutonia.
This philosophic arch of the Eighteenth Cen
tury we may conceive as extending from the
birthplace of John Locke in Western England
to the home of Inimanuel Kant in East
ern Prussia. From rim to rim is the sweep,
after which is to come a mighty concentration.
Very different was the topographical character
of the Philosophy of the Seventeenth Century.
It was confined to one small Teutonic country,
Holland, and to the not very distant province of
Hanover, the chief home of Leibniz. But Leib
niz was the philosopher who burst these narrow
bounds with his dynamic energy and scattered
his inouadal thoughts through all Germany,
even unto Berlin and Vienna. Indeed Leibniz
may be said to have Germanized modern Philoso
phy in his later years, when he had substantially
given up his earlier attempt to Gallicise it, which
was impossible on account of the dominant
Catholic Church, with its own established Philos
ophy. Thus Philosophy during the Eighteenth
Century becomes the chief intellectual Discipline

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 379

of Teutonic Europe, but of the Protestant part
thereof.

IV. Philosophy in its greatest masters no
longer speaks Latin during the Eighteenth Cen
tury, but Teutonic. In the previous century we
noted that its chief language was Latin or the
French daughter of the" Latin. Now it is to
speak first English and then German. Of course
English has a strong Latin element, but its
linguistic structure and soul remain essentially
Teutonic. Talking in the vernacular, Philos
ophy now passes from speaking French
(Descartes and Leibniz) to speaking English
(Locke and Hume). Distinguishing for our
present purpose French and English, we may say
that in general French is a Teutonized Latin,
and English is a Latinized Teutonic. Thus in
the movement of philosophic speech, English is
the intermediate between French and German,
while French and English are intermediate be
tween Latin and German. In the movement of
this line of languages, we may observe the
movement of Philosophy itself, which is slowly
passing, stepping by centuries, as it were, from
the Latin to the German world and its speech.

Thus Philosophy as the great Teutonic Dis
cipline begins to talk its mother tongue as the
immediate direct utterance of the Ego, throwing
aside its inherited speech as old clothes. This
a^ain we see to be characteristic of the Eight-

380 M ODEEN E UR OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

eenth Century in its revolt against the trans
mitted, the established, the past inheritance
generally. The spontaneous expression of the
Self in its native tongue had already manifested
itself with unequaled power in English Litera
ture. But now English Philosophy, or we may
say European Philosophy is to talk English, for
a while at least.

It should be observed, however, that both
Locke and Hume have a very decided Latin
element in their English style. Both show a
Latin culture, which passes over into their writ
ings ; particularly is this the case with Hume.
In fact we may hear a pronounced Latin accent
in the English of the Eighteenth Century.
Its literature has a tendency to be classical,
formal, Latinized ; witness Pope and Dr. Samuel
Johnson. Not till the end of the Century, when
the Romantic revival had started its ferment, do
we again hear the Anglo-Saxon accent in English.
Even in language we may thus observe that the
transmitted principle has become negative to
itself; Locke with his Latin culture belittles the
study of Latin in his work on Education. So
Philosophy talks English even if a Latinized
English; when it wants to talk Teutonic, it will
quit England and go back to the old Teutonic
home.

V. In this manner we conceive the Philoso
phy of the Eighteenth Century as reflecting its

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 381

character in the language which it uses, flinging
away its alien speech transmitted from the ages,
and betaking itself to the spontaneous fountain
of the mother-tongue, even if we see the old
Latin categories lying imbedded everywhere in
the linguistic stream. But a much deeper, in
deed just about the deepest fact of the present
Century's Philosophy, comes to light at this
point: its attitude toward the Norm, that philo
sophical Norm running through and transmitted
from all past Philosophy. Will it reject that,
too, in keeping with its revolt against everything
handed down from the fathers? The answer
must be, Yes. * The very process which makes
Philosophy and has made it from the beginning,
must be passed through the fiery furnace of
neglect, unconscious denial, and finally of con
scious refutation and rejection.

On the other hand it cannot get rid of its
own Norm; Philosophy denying Philosophy will
still show itself to be philosophical in spite of
itself. It cannot assail itself without furnish
ing the very weapons of such assault. One can
not philosophize without treating of God, World,
and Man. Herein the Eighteenth Century will
show that inner self-opposition and self -nega
tion which we have. already seen to be its pro-
foundest characteristic. It is truly a dialec
tical Century (in the Platonic sense), being
divided within itself and torn to pieces in the

38 2 M ODERN EURO PEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

strife of its own self-warring Dialectic. It
turns against the established world outwardly,
but in doing so it turns against itself inwardly.
Thus it is revolutionary to the core, without
and within, and shows the complete sweep of
the spirit as negative.

It is true that Locke and Hume and the
English thinkers generally must be acquitted of
any acquaintance with the philosophical Norm.
This could only be derived from the History of
Philosophy, from that past speculation which
Locke and Hume thought so frivolous, though
they knew so little of it. To be sure they can
hardly be blamed for such ignorance, which is
that of the educated men of their time and
country. It required the evolutionary Nine
teenth Century, returning to all forms of the
past with sympathetic study, to bring out the
deep significance of the History of Philosophy.
What could the Eighteenth Century do but spurn
it as something transmitted? The negative
movement against the Norm is seen in all three
of this Century's greatest philosophers, though
in different degrees of intensity. Locke neglects
it, Hume denies it unconsciously, while Kant
refutes it consciously and rejects all the knowl
edge which it has hitherto given. Such is the
purpose of what we may well consider the central
and pivotal portion of Kant's Critique of Pure
Reason, namely the section on the Transcenden-

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 383

tal Dialectic. This we may deem the culminat
ing point of the Century's negation of Philoso
phy, in which the philosophic Norm itself is
assailed fiercely and for a time quite obliterated
by a philosopher. Kant in his way knew about
the Norm which had come down to him from the
Seventeenth Century in a kind of undercurrent
through Wolf chiefly, who clung to it and also
to Latin speech in part, for philosophic exposi
tion. Kant is, therefore, the philosophic hero
of negation, and, as Hegel declares, is the philo
sophic counterpart of the French Revolution.

Still we must not forget the other side already
mentioned. Each of these philosophers cannot
do without the Norm of their science, otherwise
none of them would be philosophers. They all
pre-suppose it even when denying it; their work,
even when negative, proceeds on the lines of the
Norm and shows its divisions, metaphysical, phy
sical, ethical. But it seems out of place to foist
this Norm upon these philosophers when they
leave it out or deny it on principle. Accordingly
we shall have to begin with them a new procedure
by placing the Norm in a subordinate position.
We shall try to follow each of them in his own way.
Each has set forth his fundamental thought in a
book which is his central work. This work we
shall analyze in our exposition and unfold the
standpoint of the author after his own method .
Still we shall not fail to note the Norm, which,

384 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

despite his implicit or expressed opposition, will
lurk in his Philosophy as a whole.

Thus we shall follow each individual philos
opher in his normative book, in which he to a
degree makes his own Norm, asserting himself
or his Ego against the transmitted Norm, which,
however, will be found to be secretly underlying
all his work.

VI . We should also note the character of the
Natural Science of the Eighteenth Century. It
is the great chemical Century, as the preceding
was mechanical. The visible material world is
analyzed and reduced to its simple elements.
Thus the separative tendency of the period shows
itself in the treatment of Nature. Chemistry
now passes out of its uncertain alchemistic stage
into a true science. Moreover, the great original
chemical philosophers of the Eighteenth Cen
tury are English — Black, Cavendish, Priestley.
The discovery of oxygen may be considered the
new birth of chemistry. When water was sep
arated into its two elemental gases, oxygen and
hydrogen, the typical genetic fact of all Chem-
ism was brought to light. Like the English
philosophy of the Eighteenth Century, English
chemical ideas passed over to France when they
were organized anew, particularly by Lavoisier.

Thus the new forces of Nature which divide
and drive bodies asunder into their elements were
developed and specially cultivated by minds

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 385

which were themselves in this separative condi
tion, and which were just therein deeply accord
ant with their Century's spirit. This in the
realm of Natural Science we may deem dy
namical; an explosive, revolutionary, dissolving
principle is made to show itself everywhere in
the material universe. Thus after the preceding
Pan-mechanism follows the period of Pan-dyna
mism, which was indeed foreshadowed theoreti
cally in the Philosophy of Leibniz, but was
realized in the Century after him. Descartes

makes God mathematical for controlling the

&

caprice of the Ego; Spinoza does the same still
more emphatically, at least on one side of him;
Leibniz, however, gives to his Monad (as Ego)
a sphere of self -activity, even if this is pre-
established. But in the Eighteenth Century the
dynamic Ego is let loose by Locke, though in a
limited field, and is allowed free range, till it
runs up against the walls of the universe, which
walls constitute the grand separation between the
known and the unknown.

VII. In a general way we may thus bring be
fore ourselves the deep inner scission and self-
separation of the Century. It is in one inces
sant war against its own past, against its own
origin and parentage. Hence it is in a war
against itself. If what produced the child be so
utterly bad and worthless, what must the child
itself be, and what must the child say about

25

386 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

itself? So it comes that Philosophy as the
purest aiid most transparent expression of the
age, will have such a poor opinion of itself, and
show its own self-inflicted wounds to the gaze of
the whole world. Its great object from the begin
ning is to know Truth, Truth as objective and
real ; but now it has come to deny that it can know
Truth, or cognize the object as it is in itself.

We have already indicated that the three
supreme philosophers of the Eighteenth Century
are Locke, Hume and Kant. Each is to be re
garded singly, in his own right, but the final
fruit of studying them is to see them as the
three great stages of the one process which
spans the entire Eighteenth Century, and makes
it a philosophic Whole. The tri-personal move
ment we behold rise to the surface again, as we
have seen it throughout the History of Philos
ophy from the starting-point in ancient Miletus.
We may deem it a manifestation of what lies
deepest in the grand philosophic development
through the ages, a kind of personal epiphany
and incarnation of the Pampsychosis. To be
sure, there are other lesser movements, though
important, in connection with the one supreme
movement ; but it is the purpose of the present
work to concentrate attention upon this one all-
comprehending sweep of the Philosophy of the
Century.

This sweep in the main lies between two un-

THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 387

knowable realms which we may call the Ego-
in-itself and the Object-in-itself. Such is the
limit to knowledge which essentially shows
the phenomenal Ego (the counterpart of
the Ego-in-itself) seeking to grasp the phe
nomenal Object (the counterpart to the Object-
in-itself). Thus both sides, Ego and Object,
are divided into an essence (that which is
in itself) and an appearance (that which is phe
nomenal). This is the fundamental divisive
principle of the Eighteenth Century which makes
its Philosophy the second stage of the total
modern movement of Philosophy. This division
is accepted by Locke, Hume and Kant; they all
aim to show the relation of the phenomenal Ego
to the phenomenal Object in the act of knowing.
But within the field, thus marked off (that of the
Eighteenth Century) they form a process of
which each of them is a stage. This fact we
may briefly set forth in advance as follows : —

1. Locke. The phenomenal Ego can know the
phenomenal Object immediately — the latter be
ing the direct cause of Sensation in the former.
Here lies Locke's meaning of experience.

2. Hume. The phenomenal Ego cannot know
the phenomenal Object — the latter as the ex
tended cannot reach the former as the unextended,
and hence cannot directly cause even Sensation.
Here lies Hume's denial of experience. His is
the great separative doctrine of this separative

388 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

century, separating the Ego knowing and the
Object known by an impassable line. Yet this
denial of his we shall find him denying.

3. Kant. The phenomenal Ego can know the
phenomenal Object mediately — the latter being
first wrought over and put into the Ego's own
forms of Sense-perception and then into the
categories of the Understanding (all of which
is to be explained when we come to Kant
specially).

Such is, very generally stated, the philosophic
process of the Eighteenth Century, in which we
see that Kant is a return to Locke through
Hume, and thus completes within himself the
total movement of the Century. They all recog
nize an unknown realm outside their known one,
which is secretly determined in some way by the
former. For all three this unknown realm is
properly that of God, who is for them the third
element of the Norm. The essence or innate-
ness of things cannot be known, as being the
God-given. The Eighteenth Century seems to
have made a kind of compromise with God:
You keep in your sphere (the unknown) and
I (Ego) shall keep in mine (the known). Thus
the Ego asserts that it can know in its limited
sphere without ".the concourse of God," who
always in the previous Century " assisted " the
Ego to know the Object.

L 0 CKE. — PHIL OSOPHIC CRAB A C TER. 389

I. Xocfce.

The great function of Locke is to circumscribe
human intelligence. He seeks to draw a sphere
within which man can have knowledge, but out
side of this sphere man cannot know anything
on account of the limitation of his faculties. We
may conceive Locke with a huge pair of com
passes in his hand drawing a circle and saying :
Here is the boundary line beyond which the mind
is not to go.

Moreover Locke will naturally claim that this
boundary line is laid down by God Himself at
the creation, and that he, the philosopher, has
simply found it and is brushing away the rub
bish of former philosophers who had covered
it over and obscured it with meaningless terms.
God is, therefore, the limit-maker for man;
His supreme decree laid upon His creature is :
«« Thus far and no farther." Quite different is
the God of the previous Seventeenth Century,
who imparts to man immediately Ideas cle;ir and
distinct through which he knows the object in
its truth, without limitation. But Locke beholds
God as the Idea-limiting, not the Idea-giving,
and ridicules the very notion of man's knowing
absolutely what God can give, except the limit.

Thus our philosopher runs a line of demarca-

390 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

tion between the knowable and the unknowable
which is destined to remain in Anglo-Saxon
thinking down to the present. Moreover we see
wherein he divides the total field of cognition of
the previous Century into two new fields, the
knowable and the unknowable. This division is
what gives the fundamental characteristic to the
whole Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century:
it is separative, divisive, analytic, hostile to unity,
to the transmitted system, indeed to the con
ceived totality of things. It divides the Universe
and throws one-half away, thus knowing only
one half or one side, which is sure to show its
halfness or one-sidedness. Hence this Century
is inherently self -annulling, negative to its own
negation, or, as we say, dialetical; and we should
make haste to add that herein lies its surpassing
interest and its meaning for humanity's culture,
even if the lesson need not be prolonged for a
hundred years.

Locke, then, reflecting the spirit of the age,
had an overwhelming sense of human limitation.
It is the theme to which he returns again and
again, and is the creative thought which brought
his supreme book into existence. Still the com
pensation must not be left out. If he ran a wall
around the human mind not to be scaled, within
that wall he left the mind free, self -active, capa
ble of having its own Ideas without the interfer
ence even of God. So Locke has a sphere of

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHIC CIIARACTEB. 391

individual freedom, even if limited. Moreover
this spirit of freedom belongs to every Ego, is
peculiarly its own. Hence no other Ego is to
lord it over me in my inner sphere ; therein I am
to be tolerated. Hence Locke's strong defense
of Toleration which with him is not only a polit
ical and religious doctrine, but reaches to the
bottom of his Philosophy, and springs out of his
view of man. It may be said that Locke's as
sault is upon absolutism in all its forms, in State,
Church and Mind. The Kevolution of 1688 was
a Revolution in favor of Limitation, and intro
duced into England a limited Monarchy, a lim
ited Church, a limited God, and even a limited
Universe in full contradiction with itself as ex
pressed in the Lockian Philosophy of Limitation.
Herein England took the lead of the Century,
overthrowing absolutism and Louis XIV. in ex
ternal war, but even more decisively taking pos
session of the French and indeed the European
mind through the Philosophy of Locke.

With this general outlook upon the vast ex
pansion and influence of Locke's thought, we
may turn back to find the original source of it in
his life, the primordial cell, as it were, of this
marvelous development. In the Epistle to the
Reader, which is prefixed to Locke's supreme
work, the Essay concerning Human Under
standing, the author indulges in a little piece of
reminiscence about the origin and history of his

392 MODEEX EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

book. He speaks of " five or six friends meet
ing at my chamber, and discoursing on a subject
very remote from this, found themselves quickly
at a stand by the difficulties that arose on all
sides." Such was the impassable wall limiting
their understanding of one another. " After we
had a while puzzled ourselves without coming
any nearer a resolution of those doubts which
perplexed us, it came into my thoughts that we
took a wrong course, and that before we set
ourselves upon inquiries of that nature, it was
necessary to examine our own abilities, and see
what objects our understandings were or were
not fitted to deal with." To find the limitations
of Human Intelligence, to discover what we can
and cannot know, should be now the first object.
"This I proposed to the company who all
readily assented ; and thereupon it was agreed
that this should be our first inquiry." Truly it-
was high time; not only that little private club,
but the whole age was demanding such an in
vestigation. " Some hasty undigested thoughts
on a subject I had never before considered,
which I set down against our next meeting, gave
the first entrance into this Discourse."

Thus Locke describes the occasion and the
motive of his book, glancing backward from its
final completed state (probably in 1689) just on
the eve of publication, and contemplating its
starting-point. Just when this was cannot now

LOCKE.— PHIL 0 S OPIIIC CHAR A C TEE, 393

be told with exactness. But in Locke's common
place book of the year 1671 we find that he was
thinking about " the human Intellect," in this
fashion: " First I imagine that all knowledge is
founded on and ultimately derives itself from
sense or something analogous to it, and may be
called Sensation." To this first source of knowl
edge, Locke in his Essay will add another, which
he calls Reflection. Still further back in a frag
ment, De Arte Medica, dated 1668 we find Locke
declaring with some warmth that " true knowl
edge grew first in the world by experience and
rational observations ; but proud man, not con
tent with that knowledge he was capable of, and
which was useful to him, would needs penetrate
into the hidden causes of things, lay down
principles and establish maxims to himself about
the operations of nature and then expect that
Nature (or in truth God) should proceed ac
cording to those laws which his (man's) maxims
had prescribed to Him (God)." Almost
bitter is the note here; Locke's dislike
of Cause, Principle, Maxim, all of them
metaphysical categories seeking to express the
essence of Being, crops out with emphasis; he
seems to think that " proud man " in employing
them presumes to foist them upon God. Very
insolent, indeed blasphemous, is such conduct in
man whose " narrow weak faculties could reach
no farther than the observation and memory of

394 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

some few facts produced by visible external
causes, but in a way utterly beyond the reach of
his apprehension." Thus the presumptuous
mortal has undertaken to determine God, instead
of letting God (and Nature) determine him,
while he quietly receives and records the message
from above on that blank piece of white paper
called his mind. But this is not the end of the
evil. " Man still affecting something of Deity,
labored by his imagination to supply what his
observation and experience failed him in; and
when he could not discover the principles, causes
and methods of nature's workmanship, he would
need fashion all those out of his own thought,
and make a world to himself, framed and gov
erned by his own intelligence," in a kind of
rivalry with God. Surely a Satanic act is it
that man should dare be an independent world-
maker — an act of revolt like that of Satan's.
But even here the evil does not end. " This
vanity spread itself into many useful parts of
Natural Philosophy; and by how much the
more it seemed subtle, sublime, and learned, by
so much the more it proved pernicious and hurt
ful, by hindering the growth of practical knowl
edge," which is indeed the only knowledge
worth having, according to our philosopher who
finds yet another bad result. "Thus the most
acute and ingenious part of the man being by
custom and education engaged in empty specula-

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHIC CHARACTER. 395

tions, the improvement of useful arts was left to
the meaner sort of people." What a prodigious
echo has followed these words, which are still
heard with a loud resonance in the present.
Such is the result of the existing education :
absolute perversion of the mind. We shall have
to look into this matter and write our book on
education, though the world be " filled with
books and disputes" on account of the fore
going perverse use of intellect. " Books have
multiplied without the increase of knowledge,"
that is, true knowledge and not " dry barren
notions, empty and impracticable," which " arc
but the puppets of men's fancies and imagina
tions," and which " remain puppets still after
forty years' dawdling."

In such fashion the philosopher " lets himself
loose into the ocean " of indignation at the way
things are going in Oxford and elsewhere. His
words break open his soul and let us see what is
hotly fermenting there, and preparing some
future task in the way of correcting these evils.
For Locke believes in the practical, and surely
here is enough to set him to work. In this
fragment just cited we may indeed trace germs
of his future performance, particularly do we
hear the ground tones of his Essay echoing
mightily through his troubled spirit. This frag
ment written primarily about medicine and cor
poreal ailments, has another distinction : it shows

396 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Doctor Locke making his transition from bodily
to mental therapeutics, the latter being his true
vocation for the future. He starts with speak
ing contemptuously of the man who " shall
reduce medicine into the regular form of a
science" as one who "has indeed done some
thing to enlarge the art of talking and perhaps
laid the foundation for endless disputes," but
nothing at all " to bring men to a knowledge of
the infirmities of their own bodies with the safe
and discreet way of their cure." He hates sys
tem and systematized science as a creation of the
speculative imagination dealing in empty words
and unproved assertions. From the preceding
extracts we can also see why Locke in his earlier
career at Oxford was considered turbulent and
discontented before the pressure cf the timed
made him the most prudent and taciturn of men.
The above cited fragment (De Arte Medica)
has for us another important purpose : it marks
a great turning-point in Locke's life. It is
evident that he is disgusted at Oxford, disgusted
with books, with study, with all kinds of erudi
tion. It seems highly probable, if he has the
chance, he will quit the halls of learning, at
least for a time, and try his hand at a practical
vocation. At the critical moment as usual, the
Goddess Opportunity appears and opens for him
a new career. In the year 1666 he meets Lord
Ashley by accident ; the acquaintance soon ripens

LOCKE. — LIFE. 897

into warm and enduring friendship. The fol
lowing year Locke goes to London and lives in
the home of his Lordship into whose service he
enters. In 1668, the date of the above frag
ment, Locke was elected a Fellow of the Royal
Society, whose object was the promotion and
cultivation of Natural Science. According to
one of Locke's friends (Lady Masham), the
meeting " at my chamber " above narrated took
place in 1670 or 1671, though another friend
(Sir James Tyrrell), places it in 1673. Still,
even if this meeting was the starting-point of
the composition of the Essay, the ideas in it
were certainly seething through Locke's mind
years before and taking shape. Here, then, we
have ascertained what may be deemed the main
turning-point in Locke's philosophic life, and
have found the pivotal fact for viewing organ
ically his entire career.

I. LOCKE'S LIFE. — This we shall now seeK
to behold in the three customary epochs or
periods into which every complete career
seems to fall with more or less distinct
ness. Accordingly, we may suppose that
the great change in Locke's outer life, the
change from Oxford to London, from the studi
ous routine at the University to the stirring prac
tical work of the world, corresponded to an
inner change which, though previously prepared
for, began to show itself in new plans and pur-

398 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

poses. The turn toward his new career may be
placed approximately in 1667, at which point he
enters what may be called the Second Period
lasting some twenty -two years, till the printing
of the Essay in 1689. After this came the pro
pagation and defense of his works, along with
other employments. These three Periods we
shall fill out with some details.

1. First Period (1632-67). John Locke was
born at Wrington, county of Somerset, England,
August 29th, 1632, of Puritan stock. His boy
hood thus falls into the stirring times of the
Great Civil War, in which his father was for a
while an officer on the parliamentary side, that
is, against the king. Locke's youth was passed
amid discussions on the question of royal author
ity. The people of England were summoning
their ruler to their judgment seat, claiming the
right to scrutinize his acts after their standard.
Such must have been the atmosphere in the boy's
home, and he could hardly help sharing the
spirit around him. When he was ten years old
the War began, and he must have seen with a
beating heart his father marching among the
soldiers who were going to fight against the king.
He was mature enough to follow with sympathy
the ups and downs of the struggle which surged
in his own neighborhood, particularly when the
Royalists under Prince Rupert took Bristol in
1643. Finally by the decisive battle of Naseby

LOCKE. — LIFE. 399

the contest of arms was substantially over when
our youth was nearly thirteen years old ; he saw
the established authority humbled, he saw revo
lution triumphant.

Such an experience could not help producing
a strong impression upon the susceptible boy -
an impression which showed its traces through
all his future actions and writings. Locke con
tinued in a state of protest against authority his
whole life. His great Essay is a long protest
against the authority of the Schools, and the
transmitted thought of the ages. His letters on
Toleration assert the right of the individual in
the matter of religious and political opinions.
A critique of the established State, Church, and
Education runs through his books, often in a
kind of unconscious undercurrent. Such a stream
of tendency we can well track to its fountain-
head in the experiences of his youth. The time,
voicing itself, not only in fierce discussion, but
also in deadly conflict, gave to the boy his early
training, imparting to him that bent of mind
which he carried with him to the grave.

An important change of environment came to
him when in 1646 he was admitted to the West
minster School, London, where he stayed six
years There can be no doubt that here also he
was in a state of protest, particularly against
both method and material of instruction. He
was accustomed to say in after life that he got

400 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

little good out of his early education. In the
Westminster School he was drilled in Latin and
Greek, had to write themes and make verses in
the dead languages, was compelled to " learn
by heart great parcels of the authors which are
taught;" in fine, the erudition of the past was
pumped into his memory by that energetic
pedagogical - forcing-pump called Dr. Busby,
head-master of the school, whose fame in this
line is not extinct to this day. We can still
read between lines of Locke's Some Thoughts
concerning Education what view he took of his
instruction at Westminster. He would like to
" find a school wherein it is possible for the
Master to look after the manners" and morals
of his scholars instead of spending so much time
"about a little Latin and Greek" which have
small utility in after life. " I know not why any
one should waste his time and beat his head about
Latin Grammar ' ' — evidently an unpleasant
reminiscence; to Locke and to many others.
Often one cannot help noting a vein of queru-
lousness in these remarks, which, even when
just, does not enhance their value.

And it is highly probable that Locke under
valued the strict and somewhat formal training
which he received at Westminster. It was good
for him, it was just what he needed. The re
mark has come down that he in his later years
at Oxford was a turbulent discontented fellow,

LOCKE.— LIFE. 401

evidently in the habit of criticising things right
and left. When he went to Holland, he had
often to converse in Latin with the learned
men of the country, and he wrote his first
Letter on Toleration in that dead tongue. One
has the right to surmise that without a very
powerful and persistent pressure he would not
have learned Latin, seeing that he so disliked
** the charging the mind with the multiplied rules
and intricacies of Lafin Grammar," which must
have been particularly hard for Locke's mind,
as were all intricacies, especially intricacies of
thought, as we shall see later.

Moreover, the spirit of the time was also
educating the youth, as it never fails to take a
hand in such matters. What did not happen in
London and in England during the six years
that young John Locke was in school at Wrest-
minster? These years lay between 1646 and
1652. They saw the king, Charles the First,
defeated, captured, imprisoned, beheaded by his
own people who had indeed called him to
account. They saw Parliament going through a
variety of transformations with a rapidity that
still makes the head dizzy. They saw the
victorious party, after getting rid of its royal
enemies and breaking down the established
authority, shiver itself into a hundred fragments,
each of which asserted the divinity of its own
doctrine and the damnability of everybody

26

402 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

else's. Finally tney saw the strong hand rise
out of and above this struggling, fighting mass
of atoms, into which the nation had resolved it
self, and seize it with a mighty grip and coerce
the chaos into an order which it could not bring
out of itself. In 1652, the last year of Locke's
stay, the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell was
already a fact, though it was not formally pro
claimed till the following year. With truth it
may be said that no other revolution ever re
volved with a mightier energy, so many, so
great, so sudden, and so far-reaching were the
changes which England was whirled through in
the mentioned six years. The student Locke
was one of these struggling atoms, wrestling
and fighting against the transmitted education
which was being forced upon him in his school.
Still he passed to the University, matriculating
in 1652 at Christ Church, Oxford, having been
elected to what is called a Junior Studentship.
He could not help finding the same enemies at
Oxford that he knew at Westminster : traditional
lore, memorizing of empty words, in general the
formal erudition transmitted from the past, against
which past he and all England were then in open
revolt. But there was one important difference
between the University and the School : he found
little or no pressure exerted from the outside.
There was here no furious, remorseless Dr. Busby
ready to trounce the hated Latin Grammar or

LOCKE. — LIFE. 403

other learned lumber into his recalcitrant brain.
Of this difference Locke was not slow to take
advantage. So we hear that " he spent a good
part of his first year at the University in reading
romances," since he did not like the disputations,
chiefly metaphysical and Aristotelian, which were
still in vogue at Oxford. Great was his discour
agement also, for he did not understand the
subtleties of philosophy. His friend, Lady
Masham, reporting Locke's own conversations
late in life, says rather softly: "This dis
couragement kept him from being any very
hard student at the University and put him
upon seeking the" company of pleasant and
witty men," and so he had a jolly good time after
all. " I have often heard him say," records the
same reporter, " that he had so small satisfaction
from his Oxford studies that he became discon
tented with his manner of life," and blamed his
father for his present untoward destiny.

Still there came a ray of light. Whence?
From reading Descartes. Listen again to our
gentle reporter: " He was rejoiced, for though
he very often differed in opinion from the
writer " — he was bound to do that — " yet he
found what he (Descartes) said was very intelli
gible " — and hence very different from the other
metaphysical books at Oxford — " from which
(fact) he was encouraged to think that his not
having understood others had possibly not

404 MODERN EUBOPE AN PHILOSOPHY.

proceeded from a defect in his own under
standing." So he pats himself moderately on
the back. But this remark gives a true glimpse
into the nature and limits of Locke's mind, which
had little or no grip on Metaphysics proper.
But the popular manner of Descartes, especially
in his Discourse on Method, attracted and en
couraged Locke, who now might think that he
too could become a philosopher. In fact Locke's
Essay very palpably imitates the general manner
of Descartes who is decidedly inclined to intro
duce his personal experiences, his Ego, into his
philosophical exposition. Both record «« what I
think," my particular determinations, though
such a manner fits Locke's theme better than it
does that of Descartes.

Thus we may see a positive pnilosophical
strand begin to develop itself in Locke, who is
otherwise so very negative to speculation. In
deed his general attitude was negative, critical,
fault-finding. Anthony Wood, the Oxford anti
quarian, who was his fellow-student, gives the
following report of him: "This same John
Locke was a man of turbulent spirit, clamorous
and discontented ; while the rest of our club
took notes deferentially from the mouth of the
master, the said Locke scorned to do so, but was
ever prating and troublesome," These words
have in them a touch of personal dislike, but
they suggest the truth. The two men, Wood

LOCKE. — LIFE. 405

and Locke, were indeed opposites; Wood was
archaeological in his tastes aud studies, and SQ
lived in the past, while Locke had broken with
the past, and ridiculed its devotees. Moreover
they belonged to different political parties in that
age when party meant hate and even blood. At
any rate " this John Locke " is not now going
to take notes deferentially from the mouth of
any master.

During fifteen years (1652-1667) Locke re
mained almost uninterruptedly at the University
employed in various relations. He took his two
degrees, he was lecturer in Greek and Rhetoric,
he held the censorship of Moral Philosophy ; and
he seems at one time to have thought of enter
ing holy orders. But he could not screw him
self up to the point of taking any decided step.
He disliked sacerdotalism, he had grown averse
to the dogmatism and narrowness of the sects,
he had become a latitudinarian and a believer in
toleration. While he was at Oxford in this
unsettled state of mind, a great political event
took place : the restoration of Charles the Sec
ond in 1660. England returned to monarchy
and authority, to its past traditions in Church
and State. There is no doubt that Locke shared
in this return, at least for a time. We
begin to hear distinctly a new note: " As for
myself there is no one can have a greater respect
and veneration for authority than I." Mark the

406 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

declaration, as it will remain in a limited
sense true for the future, though not wholly
true. Casting a look backwards he further
states: " I no sooner perceived myself in the
world, but I found myself in a storm which
has lasted almost hitherto, and therefore cannot
but entertain the approaches of a calm, with tha
greatest joy and satisfaction." Such was the
new hope of Locke and of England at the Res
toration. He shows a reaction against liberty
and its asserters, who " are the greatest engros
sers of it, too," and, moreover, " I find that a
general freedom is but a general bondage."
Wait ; we shall see how he holds out, and whether
this incoming Stewart is still a Stewart.

But there is one change which should be noted :
the " turbulent prating John Locke " of Anthony
Wood will learn to hold his tongue, will become
famous for his taciturnity. Such is clearly the
dictate of prudence henceforth at Oxford. The
spoken word is soon to become dangerous to the
speaker unless it tally with authority. Accord
ingly we may now begin to apply to Locke one
of his own favorite sayings: Nullum numen
abest si sit Prudeniia.

After 1660 Locke remained at the University
with the exception of a brief absence in Ger
many, during which he was secretary to an
English diplomatist. In 1667, however, came a
separation, when he went to live in London, and

LOCKE. — LIFE. 407

entered the service of Lord Ashley, who after
wards became the first Lord Shaftesbury, with
whose varied fortunes Locke was for many years
connected.

2. Second Period ( 1667-1689). ThusLocKe
withdrew from Oxford not wholly and forever,
still it is a withdrawal. On a former page we
have given reasons why about this time the
gerni of his chief work had begun to show itself.
He was now thirty-five years old, he was dissat
isfied with learning, and longed for practical life
in which experience was the main thing. He
had already been following the trend of the
time and had made numerous experiments in
Natural Science, and specially in Medicine.
There is little doubt that he had likewise felt the
rein tightening on him at Oxford, and foreseen
the restraints about to be placed upon free
thought and free speech. It was getting plainer
every year that Charles the Second, like the rest
of the Stewarts, would not permit himself to
be summoned to the bar of Public Opinion in
England. The Restoration in his view meant
that the revolutionary right of individual judg
ment was to be put down. We have seen that
in 1660 Locke hailed the return of the old
order, but during the next seven years he had
begun to react from his reaction. This fact
will manifest itself in his writings of the present
Period, which will show the author erecting

408 M ODE UN E UB OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

bulwarks on all possible sides against external
authority. Such an object we shall find particu
larly in his Essay as regards the transmitted
knowledge of the whole past.

Another doubt not to be omitted enters Locke's
life about this time : the doubt about his health.
His physical constitution had never been robust ;
his brother died of consumption at an early age.
He begins to be troubled with asthma, which
followed him through his entire life. This ca
pricious disease is well known to have a peculiar
effect upon the imagination of its victim. We
hear a good deal of Locke's hacking cough, in
dicative of a lung disease. It led him to take a
short journey to France in 1672, and to plan a
long stay in some southern latitude. He did no
small amount of work, but his health was never
out of his mind. He became a confirmed valetudi
narian. One reason why he studied medicine
was to look into his bodily troubles, to experi
ment with his manifold maladies, and to test his
own remedies. This tendency not only influenced
his mind, but colored his temperament. It
helped to make him one of the most circumspect
of mortals, being always on the lookout for
something unexpected to crash in upon his
health. It intensified his bent toward the exper
imental side of knowledge. Every physician
knows how difficult it often is to trace the relation
of cause to effect in disease. Locke shows a

LOCKE. — LIFE. 409

tendency to question causation generally, which
questioning becomes downright denial in Hume,
who was a logical development out of Locke.
But the preservative principle of this disease
must not be forgotten. Locke, sickly, asthmatic,
wheezing, coughing, lived a long life and did an
enormous amount of work, because he took care
of himself, watching and observing with fore
thought the physical and mental limits of his
powers. If he had been a stronger man, he
would have died sooner and done less. Great is
the conservative force of the valetudinarian who
often seems able to turn his veiy disease into a
source of vital energy. This is by no means in
tended to imply that Locke feigned his illness or
that his physical troubles were imaginary. On
the contrary they were real and gave him a great
lesson in the art of life, teaching him how to
transform the destructive assaults upon his body
into a means for its preservation and activity.
And from body he will pass to mind, which he
will subject to a similar treatment.

In a letter from Paris dated June, 1677, there
is a humorous glance into this side of his life, giv
ing a playful account of his unceasing efforts to
woo his capricious mistress Hygeia. "My
health is the only mistress I have a long time
courted, and so coy a one that I think it will
take up the remainder of my days to obtain her
good graces and keep her in a good humor."

410 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

This seems to have been about the only serious
courtship of his life and so he never got married,
spending his days in pursuing a fair maiden
whom he never caught, who had the perverse
habit of always fleeing from him when he
followed her and of coming back when he ceased
pursuit.

After entering the service of Lord Ashley,
Locke is much engaged in public business. It is
supposed he had a hand in drawing up The
Fundamental Constitutions of Carolina , issued
on March 1st, 1669. This is notable as an early
instance of a written Constitution for governing
an English Colony in America. Locke, how
ever, could hardly have been the author of the
entire instrument, which, originating with English
noblemen, has a decided feudal tendency. Quite
different are the early New England documents
of this sort, springing as they did from the
people. During 1672-3 he held various Govern
ment offices, his patron Shaftesbury having
become Lord Chancellor of England. With the
latter 's fall from power, Locke's fortunes
changed. In 1675 he took his long contem
plated trip abroad, staying four years in France.
During this lengthy period of leisure he worked
chiefly at his Essay, which he brought back to
England " completed," according to one state
ment.

After hi,* return Locke remained faithful to

LOCKE. — LIFE. 411

his patron Shaftesbury, who had become deeply
obnoxious to the king, and who, in consequence,
was arrested and tried for treason, but acquitted,
in 1681. Being discovered in a conspiracy
against the king the next year, this restless no
bleman, so different from Locke, was compelled
to flee to Holland, where he soon died. Thus
our quiet philosopher was danced up and down
on the political intrigues of the time, when he too
became an object of suspicion. The following
report from a government spy, who was watch
ing him at Oxford, has been published in recent
years : *' John Locke lives a very cunning and un
intelligible life here, being two days in town and
three out, and no one knows where he goes or
when he goes, or when he returns." Evidently
Locke knew his man and was on his guard.
"Not a word ever drops from his mouth that
discovers anything of his heart within. Now
that his master (Shaftesbury) is fled, I sup
pose we shall have him altogether." Locke
had not always been so close-mouthed at Ox
ford. But now, though the suspicion contin
ually hovers about him "that there is some
Whig intrigue a managing," he cannot be in
veigled into a compromising word. Later, in
1684, another spy, none other than Doctor Fell,
Dean of Christ Church and also Bishop of Oxford,
thus reports to the Government concerning
Locke: " I have for divers years had an eye

412 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

upon him, but so close has been his guard on
himself that after strict inquiries I may confi
dently affirm there is not one in the College,
however familiar with him, who has heard him
speak a word either against or so much as con
cerning the Government. ' ' No more criticism, no
more citation of the king's acts to the bar of indi
vidual judgment ; our former universal critic has
become so foxy that he cannot be trapped by the
best-laid snare of a cunning priest. Listen to
the following confession from the same high-
stationed spy: " Very frequently both in public
and private discourses have been purposely
introduced to the disparagement of his master,
the Earl of Shaftesbury ; he (Locke) could never
be provoked to take any notice or discover in
word or look the least concern ; so that I believe
there is not in the world such a master of taci
turnity and passion." Can this be the Locke
of Anthony Wood, *' turbulent, discontented,
prating? " That Goddess of his, Prudentia,
seems to have wrought a miracle as regards his
tongue. All of which seems to us very indicative
of what is going on internally in the spiritual
development of the author of the Essay.

Though Locke gave no pretext to his enemies,
he knew that they would soon seize him without
any pretext. The terrors of a prison must have
been doubly redoubled to the imagination of a
valetudinarian. If he could hardly meet the re-

LOCKE. — LIFE. 413

quirements of his health when in freedom, what
would he do when in jail? The very idea must
have made him shiver. Accordingly that fickle
mistress of his, ever to be wooed and never to
be won, gave peremptorily the command to flee
from England. So in 1683 Locke slips off and
goes to Holland, at that time the asylum of
fugitives from oppression. There he stays for
the next six years.

This is so large a fragment of human life
that one asks what influence did it have upon
the life and works of Locke? First he there
became an author and began to publish his
writings, to be sure in a timid, anonymous
fashion. Snys he in a letter dated December,
1684: " Bating these (a few youthful verses),
I do solemnly protest that I am not the author,
not only of any libel, but not of any pamphlet
or treatise whatever, good, bad, or indifferent."

The chief acquaintance he made in Holland
was Peter van Limborch, a theologian belong
ing to the sect of Arniinians or Remonstrants
(this name comes from a remonstrance which
they presented to the States-General in 1610).
They had been condemned at the Synod of Dort
(1619) and had been persecuted by the Calvin-
ists ; hence they too favored toleration, and they
were also latitudinarians. Still they had sur
vived the attacks of their enemies and were quite
numerous in certain parts of Holland. It was

414 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

natural that Locke should sympathize with these
people, finding in them his counterpart in his
new home. It is also to be noted that Spinoza
had his refuge within this same sect, or a sect of
this sect, for many years and in the same general
locality. But Spinoza lived among the humble
of this denomination, while Locke was the friend
of their greatest man and leader. Spinoza was
a few months (three) younger than Locke, and
had died some six years before the latter 's
arrival in Holland. How far Locke ever became
acquainted with the writings of Spinoza, which
had been published in 1677 and were making
their way in Holland while he was there, does not
appear. The two philosophers, different as they
were, had important things in common ; both
were persecuted for opinion's sake and both
believed in toleration.

In 1685 the English Government demanded
the extradition of Locke as one of eighty-five
dangerous Englishmen then in Holland. For a
time he had to hide himself though there was
probably no serious attempt to catch him on the
part of the Dutch authorities. Under such
circumstances his thoughts naturally turned to
Toleration, upon which subject he had already
thought at Oxford. Accordingly in his hid
ing-place this victim of intolerance solaces him
self by composing his Epistola de Tolerantia,

LOCKE.— LIFE. 415

sometimes said to be his most original pro
duction.

Another important literary acquaintance of
this period was Jean Le Clcrc, who was certainly
imbued with Spinozism, and in biblical interpre
tation followed largely the doctrines of the
The ologico- Political Treatise. What Locke got
of Spinoza probably came through Le Clerc,
who stimulated Locke greatly, and induced him
to write articles for publication, though as yet
anonymously.

Thus Locke, who had written privately all his
life, now begins to print and publish in free Hol
land. It was a considerable step for our exceed
ingly cautious and indeed timid man to take.
Moreover, he could now quietly look back upon
life and his country's history during the stormy
period of the previous half century. Locke had
reached the fifties, and had experienced much; it
was time that he, as philosopher, should take a
survey. So it resulted that all his chief works
during his Dutch exile began coming to a head.
In addition he seemed to acquire a new power of
work, the climate of Holland agreed with him
better than the English or French. There is no
doubt that Locke had to separate from England
in order to look back and see it and himself con
sciously and philosophically, and then formulate
such a view. The Essay was probably the center
of thought during this period, and his other writ-

416 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ings were hardly more than applications and illus
trations of its principle. Lady Masham remarks
suggestively: "In Holland he had full leisure
to prosecute his thoughts on the subject of the
Human Understanding — a work which, in all
probability, he would never have finished, had he
continued to live in England."

The last year or even two years of Locke's
stay in Holland must have been much interrupted
by the scheming and preparation for the redemp
tion of England from the House of Stewart.
James the Second had shown himself the worst
man of his family. Three Stewarts had been
tried in succession, they had all shown them
selves hostile to the deepest demand of English
spirit. They were bent on absolutism, they were
determined not to give any account of their ac
tion to the nation . Another Revolution was clearly
impending, another citation of the king to the
judgment seat of the people would have to take
place. Even the nobility were taking part in such
a demand, in fact, were the leaders. The Rev
olution of 1640 had to be wrought over, if
not fought over. The place of preparation was
Holland, and Locke for a while was at the
storm center. At last, in 1688, the expedition
of William of Orange sailed and accomplished
the new Revolution peaceably. In 1689 Locke,
in the retinue of Queen Mary, returned to En
gland. For him, and indeed for the people of

LOCKE.— LIFE. 417

England, the so-called Revolution of 1688 was
not so much a Revolution as a Restoration.
Locke saw his principle realized, made the prin
ciple of his country's Government.

3. Third Period (1689-1704). This is es
sentially Locke's Period of Publication. He
was 57 years old when he returned to England in
1689, and he had previously published almost
nothing. The Revolution gave him the requi
site freedom to express his thought, which
under the Stewarts had been held down in silence.
He began to realize his life ; his return to En
gland was in the deepest sense a return to himself
out of estrangement, separation, banishment,
which characterized his Second Period. The
result was seen in his work. He lived fifteen
years more, which were the happy time of his
life in spite of increasing age and his chronic
malady.

Moreover he became a public man again, and
was handsomely rewarded by King William for the
services rendered to the latter's cause. One of his
offices brought him a thousand pounds a year with
out seriously interfering with his literary work.
He took an interest in public questions, and wrote
several small tracts in reference to the coinage,

C5

He was consulted by statesmen such as Somers
and Halifax.

During all this time he continued to propagate
his philosophical doctrines. He entered the
27

418 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

religious field also, writing on miracles and on
the Bible. He was likewise drawn into several
controversies in reference to both his religion
and his philosophy. His death took place Octo
ber 28th, 1704, at Gates in Essex.

II. LOCKE'S WRITINGS. — It has been already
stated that Locke published his Writings dur
ing his last Period, which is hardly more than a
record of his literary works. Moreover the pub
lication of his chief books belongs to the early
years of the last period, they being ready in the
main for the press when he stepped on English
soil in 1689. First comes the English transla
tion of his Epistola de Tolerantia, or his first
Letter on Toleration (1689). It is a curious fact
that Locke's first important work was composed
in Latin, the study of which tongue he had so
disparaged. The next year a second letter on
the same subject followed, and in 1692 a third.
The two treatises on Government appeared in
1690, and his book on Education in 1693.

But the great literary event of Locke's life was
the publication of the Essay concerning the
Human Understanding, which he began to print
early in 1689, but which was not ready for cir
culation till March, 1690, This is the work
which contains what Locke deemed his Philoso
phy, and which must be explained and analyzed
in its own right and under its own name, famil
iarly known as Locke's Essay,

LOCKE.— WRITINGS. 419

In one Remap, it, m.'iv wp.1I be said that Locke's
Philosophy is the denial of Philosophy . The
search for the Essence of Being (the ousia of the
on) is declared fruitless, indeed impossible by the
English philosopher, wherein he expresses his
nation's spirit. ^tJnJiis_denial of Philosophy
Locke is still philosophizing, he is not merely
negative to^the old conception of this science,
but he is positive also, putting into it anew con
tent, and giving to it a new direction. Hejvili
endeavor to destroy the previous metaphysical
side_of_£liilosophy, and make it_face__to ward
Psychology.

— I7 ff i

In Locke the Self (or Ego) begins to be the
point of departure, and starts to ordering and
classifying its own activities through itself. In
the movement of the Seventeenth Century we
have always found this Ego and even its pro
cess present somewhere, but smothered in its
metaphysical wrappage, as was noted in the
Leibnizian Monad. Philosophy is now to__give
an account of what thfLjnind does wJiejQ_&timu-
lated to its process by the external world. Thus
two__very_ different elements come together in the
Philo^aplijj^r^ shrill contradic

tion, yet often in co-operation. On the one
jiaml the mind or Ego is the source of its own
activities, is self-acting self-determined; on the
other it is moved to this activity by NaturCjJby
the outside world, and so is externally determined.

420 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Accordingly we shall often find Locke restlessly
shifting from one side to the other of these
contradictory elements In what he says of Jboth
Intellect and Will. He asserts strongly liberty ;
with equal ernjjhasis^ he asserts determinism ;

otherT The nutTis really too hard for

him to crack. Frequently he turns with a male
diction upon all philosophic thinking, and flings
it out of the window. And yet it somehow flies
back again and stands before him with its riddle.
Thus Locke sees and proclaims that tlnpEgo is
self -active, self-deter mined , with its own inner
process or activities. We can hardly now
realize to ourselves how great a step this was in
Locke's day, we who are the heirs of his
thought, and to whom it has become common
place. Philosophy is to be Egoized, which
means democratized, made the possession of all
Egos, of the people. To be sure this result lay
not in the design of Locke, who was not a demo
crat, nor an aristocrat, but a middle class
Englishman believing in the freedom of the in
dividual as granted and secured by the Limited
Monarchy of the English Constitution. Still he
summons all science, all the past, in fact the
whole objective world to the bar of his private
judgment. To be sure, Descartes did not wholly
but partially the same thing, and so started
Modern Philosophy. But Locke turns the light

LOCKE — WRITINGS. 421

upon that Ego who makes the citation and is the
judge of what is cited. The Seventeenth Cen-
.tury made God determine the Ego to a knowl-
£dge of the object, but Locke begins with a
self-determined Ego, not a God-determined one,
for knowing the objective world. Thus he starts
to break down the exclusive, aristocratic, author
itative character of all previous Philosophy.
From this point of view we can see that he is
indeed revolutionary.

He opens the profoundly separative, analytic,
negative character, of the Eighteenth Century
by his destructive act of freedom, liberating
the Ego from the domination of the old Meta
physics. The philosophic breach between the
two great divisions of the Teutonic race, the
English and the German, though already mani
fested on both sides, widens and becomes two
wholly distinct streams which flow through the
entire coming Century and beyond. In the total
sweep of Modern Philosophy Locke begins its
second grand act.

It is significant that Locke put off any division
of the sciences to the last chapter of his Essay,
which is in no sense ordered by this division.
He holds that there are three grand sciences,
" three great provinces of the intellectual world,
wholly separate and distinct one from another."
The first he calls Physical Science which treats
of the nature of things, " as they are in them-

422 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

selves." Note that in this Science he would in
clude not only Physics but Metaphysics, "not
only matter and body, but spirits also," and even
" God and the angels ", which subjects are
usually handed over to Theology. " This in a
more enlarged sense of the word I call Physike
or Natural Philosophy," which has as its end
" bare speculative truth." Locke has written a
little book which he calls Elements of Natural
Philosophy, but it has no such content as this,
since it treats only of the phenomena of Nature.
The second general Science in Locke's division
is Praktike, or Practical Science, "the skill of
ric-ht applying our own powers and actions for
the attainment of things good and useful."
Here lies the sphere of Ethics. The third gen
eral Science is Semeiotike, or the doctrine of
Signs to which language belongs, and upon
which Locke justly puts great stress.

This division, however, is not followed at all
by Locke, it is evidently a tiny bit of speculation
which meant little or nothing to him and for
which he really had no use. Hence he throws
it in at the end where it can do not hurt. Its
interest is chiefly to show how little grasp he has
consciously upon any organization of Philosophy,
even of his own. And yet Locke's work is un
consciously and remotely directed by the philo
sophic Norm which had descended to him from
former ages. He too deals with Absolute Being

LOCKE. — WHITINGS, 423

or God, Nature or the World, and Man or
Mind — and cannot help himself.

The three great division of Philosophy — Met
aphysics, Physics, and Ethics — now begin to
assume their peculiar English form and name,
being known to us all through school and college
as Mental,* Natural, and Moral Philosophy, which
have a tendency to develop separately in the
separative Eighteenth Century, particularly in
England. After this spirit they are taught still
to-day, little or no attention is paid to their con
nection, " all three being toto coelo different,
three provinces wholly separate and distinct,"
according to Locke.

The philosophic Norm, accordingly, is not to
be wholly left out of the Philosophy of Locke,
though it drops to a subordinate place. It has
in the main controlled the organization of philo
sophic thought hitherto, but the attempt now is
to set it aside. The individual book of the phil
osopher at present organizes his thought directly,
the transmitted thought of the Norm does not
organize his book. Against any such authority
is the great revolt of the time. To the special
consideration of Locke's Essay we must then
address ourselves.

424 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

LOCKE'S ESSAY.

This work is divided into four Books, which
division is not specially explained or grounded by
the author. Still the reader can see in a general
way that the different Books not only treat of
different topics but show a difference of treat
ment, even a difference of mood. The First Book
is a negative Book, containing one determined
assault upon the doctrine of Innate Ideas, and is
written in a destructive temper. The Second
Book is on the other hand a positive, construc
tive Book and unfolds what may be distinctly
called Locke's Philosophy; thus it is altogether
the most important part of the Essay. Pass
ing over the Third Book which is chiefly a
discussion of language, we come to the last or
Fourth Book, which treats especially of meta
physical points, and plainly shows a relaxation
of the attitude of the First Book, if not a sur
render in certain matters. Locke becomes con
scious (in this last Book) of the difficulties of
his doctrine as set forth in his Second Book,
and recognizes more fully than before the Phi
losophy of the preceding Century. Thus the
Fourth Book is a turning-back to the start
ing point, and a new working-over of the whole
problem of knowledge. Upon these general

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 425

lines we shall seek to look at the Essay in its
main details.

A. THE FIRST BOOK. — This we may call the
negative Book of the whole work, its spirit being
that of the destroyer. It may be deemed the
revolutionary overture to the Eighteenth Century
in its philosophical aspect. It is thus character
istic of Locke and of his time that he begins his
great task negatively, with a denial of the fun
damental world-view of the preceding Century.
The polemic of this First Book is not by any
means lukewarm, and it is carried out to what
seems unnecessary detail. If we reach to the
heart of this attack, we find that it is the God of
the Seventeenth Century whom Locke denies,
altogether the supreme denial. Then he proceeds
to establish his own God who is not to interfere
with man's knowing the world directly.

It has been already stated that Locke's main
assault was upon the Metaphysics handed down
from the past. In such work, however, his refuta
tion has to be metaphysical. The point of attack
he calls Innate Ideas, whose existence he denies.
These Ideas he conceives to be imprinted on the
mind, they are characters stamped on its sub
stance. Innate Ideas are not the self-active
processes of the mind, but are put into it from
the outside in mechanical fashion. Moreover
these Ideas as innate "the soul receives in its
very first being and brings into the world with

426 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it." Still further, God is the source whence
Innate Ideas are implanted in the soul of man.
Such is Locke's general view of Innate Ideas.

At the start (I. 2) we see the pith of Locke's
objection. He proposes to ' ' show how men by the
bare use of their natural faculties, may attain to
the knowledge of all they have without the help
of any such innate impressions. ' ' Here he affirms
that mind is self-active, even self-developing.
The Idea is not innate, is not imprinted upon
the Intellect at birth by a superior power. That
would destroy its essence for Locke. The Idea
is not God-created, but man-created, or at least
self-unfolding. What, then, does God do for
us? He bestows upon us our powers of mind,
our self -activity. " God, having endued man
with those faculties of knowledge which he hath,
was no more obliged by his goodness to plant
these innate notions in his mind than that, hav
ing given him reason, hands and materials, he
should build him bridges or houses" (I. 4, 12).
Locke's strong, we might say, warm assertion is
that the Idea is not imparted to man at birth by
God.

The reader begins soon to ask: Who said
otherwise? At whom are these shafts directed?
Early in the First Book of the Essay (which
book deals with Innate Ideas) curiosity starts to
groping about for Locke's enemy. Finally -we
come upon one mentioned name, that of Lord

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 427

Herbert, whose book De Veritaie is cited and
examined. But we soon conclude that this could
not hav.e been Locke's game. The artillery is
altogether too heavy and the firing too hot. Lord
Herbert's book in Locke's citation goes back to
1656, and Locke claims to have written his
refutation, in part at least, before reading it.

We may well believe that Locke had his first
tilt at Innate Ideas during his earlier period at the
University, when he began to read Descartes.
We must also believe that he was stimulated to
renewed opposition during his visit to France
(1675-79), where the Cartesian Philosophy was
making a great stir. But the time which roused
him most to his antagonism against Innate Ideas
Avas his stay in Holland (1683-89), which
country was the first place of their propagation,
and the abode of Descartes himself. In fact,
Holland was substantially the home of the
Philosophy of the Seventeenth Century, the soil
in which it first . grew and always thrived best.
Now that Philosophy from beginning to end,
through all its expositors great and small, had
as one of its fundamental doctrines what Locke
calls Innate Ideas, something" impressed on the
original substance of the mind, from the first
moment of its existence, by the Creator."

The Ego was in one way or other God-deter
mined, not self-determined, it did not get its
knowledge primarily through its own faculties,

428 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

through its own activity, but through the direct
gift of God in some form. The philosophic
heroes of the Seventeenth Century — Descartes,
Spinoza, Leibniz — have this common trait,
though in different ways and in different degrees.
Against their principle Locke enters the lists and
therein begins a wholly new turn in the move
ment of Philosophy, making the transition out
of the Seventeenth to the Eighteenth Century,
and diverting the philosophic stream in its world-
historical import from the Continent to England.

We may accordingly regard this polemic of
Locke's against Innate Ideas as the great breakout
of the old into the new. It is evident that Leib
niz regarded it as such, for he takes up the
challenge and vindicates the Century to which he
properly belongs in a reply keen and detailed.
His work, the Nouveaux Essais, as a whole is an
attempt to arrest the Lockian tendency. In vain ;
Leibniz declined even to publish his book against
Locke, for which declination he gives an excuse
not very convincing. We have already stated
that Leibniz, though younger than Locke, and
outliving him, was emphatically a man of the
Seventeenth Century ; in our view he is the com
pletion of its philosophic movement.

There is often a warmth and directness, as well
as unnecessary amplification of the argument in
the First Book of Locke's Essay, which can only
spring from personal discussion. Locke's ac-

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 429

quaintances in Holland were more or less imbued
with Cartesianism. His special friend, Le Clerc,
who did so much for him, and really trained him
out of his timidity to the point of publication,
was more than tinged with Spinozisin. It is a
curious fact that the epitome of the Essay which
was published in Le Clerc's Journal in 1688 has
no First Book. Some have supposed that this
was the portion last completed of the Essay. At
any rate it was thoroughly wrought over and re
ceived its point in Holland. But Locke is wholly
silent about his philosophic antagonists, they were
probably his best friends and benefactors. And
then Locke grew to be excessively timid and
close-mouthed, as we have already seen. So he
projects a kind of phantom antagonist in Lord
Herbert a full generation backward in time, as an
answer to his reader, who is sure to ask : Whom
are you fighting so hotly? Locke, however, is
doing his supreme philosophical task in his battle
against Innate Ideas, and that is the main interest
for us of the present day. He is producing an
epoch-making work which still shows best the
movement out of the retiring Seventeenth into
the coming Eighteenth Century.

It is not difficult to see the insufficiency of
Locke's argument in many places. The keen
thrusts of Leibniz against him can hardly be
parried .in most cases. It is not worth our while
here to follow the details of Locke's reasoning

430 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

in its mistakes and contradictions ; his fatal half-
ness of statement throughout must be acknowl
edged and guarded against, if we would grasp
him in his totality. His best known compa
risons, as those which liken the mind to a white
sheet of paper or to an empty cabinet, are but
one side or a half of his doctrine. If to the
Lockian view, Nihil est in intellectu quod non
fucrit in sensu, Leibniz would add nisi ipse in-
tellectus, the same doctrine can be vindicated for
Locke. In fact Lebuiz only saw and in the
nature of the case could only see one side of
Locke, against which in its one-sidedness he
wins his point.

Another category of the Philosophy of the
Seventeenth Century is Substance. To this
also Locke is not friendly in spite of a certain
toleration. He would clear the mind of the
Innate Idea, and the world of Substance, both
being a hindrance to true knowledge.

Such is Locke's negative argument, in which,
however, lurks his positive principle. On the
whole his procedure has been psychological :
his Ego has been examining his Ego, trying to
find in it these Innate Ideas. They do not exist,
is his verdict. But from this fruitless result
he will pass in the Second Book of the Essay
to tell us what does exist in the mind. Thither
we shall pass with him and glance at his new
substitute for the old Metaphysics.

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 431

We may again emphasize the fact that Locke
asserts the immediate relation between Mind and
Object, rejecting all divine interference to bring
these two extremes together in knowledge. No
correspondence, no consubstantialiiy, no Pre-es
tablished Harmony between Mind and Matter:
we are in a new world of thought, a new Cen
tury. The important thing to ascertain now is:
What can I know and what can I not know?
The limit of knowledge must be found. This
calls for a positive discussion of the faculty of
knowing, or, in general, the Human Understand
ing.

B. SECOND BOOK. — Very different is not only
the content, but also the spirit of this Book
from the preceding one. It is decidedly con
structive, Locke is now the builder, building the
edifice of Philosophy, which has had a lasting
effect. Really, however, his subject-matter as
well as his procedure is psychological, and this
Second Book may well be deemed the special
source of our Anglo-Saxon Mental Philosophy.
Thus it has been one of the most influential
pieces of human writing. The mind looks at
itself, takes itself to pieces, thus finding out
itself, and making this the important knowledge.
The worth of the Self is herein distinctly pro
claimed. In such an investigation we must pro
ceed to take an inventory of mind, or of what
Locke calls the Understanding. Its varied

432 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

activities we, condensing Locke, may divide as
follows: (1) the Understanding as such, as that
through which we acquire our experience; (2)
the Understanding as passive, as determined, yet
responding to such determination; (3) the Un
derstanding as active, as working over its ma
terials through itself. The whole moves between
two unknown and unknowable elements, which
at present we may name the Ego-in-itself and
the Thing-in-itself . More will have to be said
upon this topic later.

I. The Understanding as Such. Locke's
work is concerning the Human Understanding.
We seek first to discover what he embraces in
this term. Here again we shall find Locke vague
and contradictory in his use of a pivotal word ;
still a fair and not too critical treatment of him
will reveal his general meaning. " The Under
standing like the eye, while it makes us see and
perceive all other things, takes no notice of
itself." Thus Locke seems at the start to
exclude the self-conscious act from the Under
standing; but this is not at all what he means,
for we are to " make the acquaintance with our
own Understandings ; " such is indeed the de
clared purpose of his Essay. The Understand
ing is to turn back upon itself and examine itself
in all its activities and faculties. Sometimes
Locke seems to exclude Will from the Under
standing, sometimes Reflection; then both are

LOCKERS ESSAY. 433

regarded as phases or activities of the Under
standing. So we have to conclude that it was
a tendency of mind with Locke to speak of any
mental faculty as being outside of the Un
derstanding to which it belonged when it was
separately regarded and specialized. His in
tellectual constitution was inherently separa
tive and analytic, with almost no turn for grasp
ing processes.

We believe that the modern reader on the
whole will find the best equivalent for Locke's
Understanding in the word Ego, of whose self-
conscious development his Essay is a very im
portant stage. In the main it is a discussion of
the Intellect, but Will and Feeling are not
excluded.

1. A primal or potential state of the Under
standing hovered darkly in the background of
Locke's thought. It is "a darkroom," " a
closed cabinet, "hard to see into; " methinks the
Understanding is not much unlike a closet wholly
shut from light, with only some little opening
left, to let in external visible resemblances, or
ideas of things" (II. 11, 17). This is of course
not all of the Understanding, but only its implicit
or potential stage. It is the Litellectus primus,
which Locke sometimes regards as a kind of prim
itive mental substance upon which Ideas are to
be impressed and held. Locke, however, is very
uncertain about this First Understanding, saying
28

434 MODERN" EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

among other modest phrases, "these are my
guesses."

2. Already the " Ideas of things " which the
Understanding " lets in at its window," have
been noticed. The term Idea is probably the
most common one in Locke; his first labor, we
recollect, is to clear the Idea of innateness. Thus
purified, it becomes his favorite category. What
does it mean? "It is that term which serves
best to stand for whatsoever is the object of the
Understanding." (I. 1, 8). Here the Under
standing looks at its own object or impression,
which is an Idea. The contents of the mind,
whatever it thinks about, must be classed as
Ideas. These are what Locke is going to examine
in his book, he is going to get an Idea of all
Ideas.

3. The next question is, Whence come these
Ideas? Locke's answer is, from Experience,
which is his third leading term or category in
the present field. Upon Experience " all our
knowledge is founded, and from that it is ulti
mately derived " (II. 1, 2). What is it? " Our
observation, employed either about external sen
sible objects or about internal operations of our
minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves,
is that which supplies our Understandings with
materials of thinking." These are properly
Ideas, coming from Experience, which has the
two windows (called external and internal sen-

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 435

sation) "by which light is let into this dark
room" of the primal Understanding. Yet the
Understanding is all there: the first dark room,
its contents or Ideas, and the windows letting in
the light. Underlying Locke's whole thought is
the fact that these three belong together and
form one process. But of this he seems to be
completely unconscious.

In regard to Experience Locke makes it of two
kinds, from without and from within, though we
shall find him employing three.

(1) The first is Sensation or those Ideas
coming into the mind through the channel of the
senses, such as the sensible qualities of objects.
This corresponds pretty nearly to what is now
known as Sense-perception, and the Ideas de
rived from it are essentially Percepts. Sensation
is very important in the Philosophy of Locke, at
times he regards it as the true or active mind
writing upon the white sheet of paper (the blank
or passive mind) its operations.

(2) The second is Reflection, which is " the
other fountain from which Experience furnisheth
the Understanding with Ideas " (II. 1, 4). The
reader will do well to note the lurking process in
these words : Experience opens its window and
lets the Ideas into the dark room of the Under
standing which then looks at them and gets to
know them. Such a manner of statement is very
external, is a kind of personification of mental

436 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

activities, and is a work of the imagination rather
than of thought. Still it is just this process
which time will evolve into its purity and fullness
out of Locke.

Reflection is the " perception of the operation
of our minds within us " or the act of self -con
sciousness which accompanies mental activity.
But reflection in Locke is something more than
this: it "affords" or produces Ideas through
the mind "reflecting on its own operations
within itself " (11.1,4). Keflection here has
the same double meaning which Locke's thinking
shows generally : it is determined from without,
yet is also self-determined.

(3) Sensation and Eefiection have a common
power of producing simple Ideas. For instance
the Ideas of Pain or Pleasure " join themselves
to almost all our Ideas both of Sensation and of
Reflection." We know that " Pain is often pro
duced by the same objects and ideas that produce
Pleasure in us." Locke cites a number of those
simple Ideas which we receive from either Sensa
tion or Reflection, as unity, power, succession.

II. The Understanding as Passive. Locke
after dividing ideas into simple and complex,
characterizes simple Ideas as those which the
Understanding receives passively. " These
simple ideas when offered to the mind, the Un
derstanding can no more refuse to have, nor
alter when imprinted, than a mirror can its

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 437

images or ideas" (II. 1.25). It is significant
that Locke here calls the images in a mirror its
ideas of objects. *' The mind is forced to receive
the impressions, and cannot avoid the perception
of those Ideas that are annexed to them."

But iiovv for the other side. "In time the
mind comes to reflect on its own operations
about the ideas got by Sensation, and thereby
stores itself with a new set of ideas, which I
call Ideas of Eeflection " (II. 124).

But this is not all. These impressions of
sense, "proceeding from powers intrinsical and
proper to the mind itself," are reflected on by
the mind, and, " becoming also the objects of
its contemplation, are, as I have said, the origi
nal of all knowledge." Here, then, we seem to
have not only Reflection as the self-conscious act
in response to Sensation, but Reflection as " the
original of all knowledge." This sounds very
much like a new source of knowledge, not so
much determined by, as determining Experience.
That stream flowing from the fountain Experi
ence seems to have strangely turned about and
to be going back to its source.

Under the present head Locke puts a good
deal of matter in his Essay.

1. The simple Ideas of Sensation he divides
into the primary and secondary qualities of
bodies. The first are those " which are utterly
inseparable from the body, in what state soever

438 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it be," as solidity, extension, figure. The secon
dary qualities are 4< nothing in the objects them
selves," but are " powers to produce various
sensations in us by their primary qualities " as
colors, sounds, tastes. " To these might be added
a third sort " as the power of fire " to produce
a new color or consistency in wax or clay by its
primary qualities, which is analogous to the
secondary qualities produced in me by fire"
(II. 8).

2. The simple Ideas of Eeflection Locke
declares to be mainly two, Perception and Will.
"The two great and principal actions of the
mind, which are most frequently considered, and
which are so frequent that everyone that pleases
may take notice of them in himself, are these
two : Perception or Thinking, and Volition or
Willing." (II. 6.) This is a very important
passage for determining the Psychology of
Locke. It is evident that the two great divisions
of the mind for him are Intellect (or Under
standing, named also Perception by him at
times) and Will. " The power of thinking is
called the Understanding, and the power of
volition is called the Will." The other mental
activities he seems to regard as subdivisions of
these two, being " modes of these simple Ideas
of Reflection such as remembrance, discerning,
reasoning, judging, knowledge, faith, etc." Of
these subordinate activities, modes of Thinking

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 439

and Willing, he will have a good deal to say in
the rest of his Essay.

In this division Locke carries forward the
development of Psychology to an important new
stage and by a method which must be pronounced
new in its present completeness. The Ego now
turns directly to itself as self -active and describes
its own activities. This is Locke's great step in
advance of the philosophers of the Seventeenth
Century who, even if they gave the process of the
Ego correctly, wrapped it up in Substance
or the Monad, and attributed this process to the
act of God. All such metaphysical wrappage is
cast off by Locke, who therein is a great libera
tor of the Ego, asserting its divine right to see
itself directly as it is, and to know itself psycho
logically.

3. The modern reader asks, where is the third
element, co-ordinate with Thought and Will,
namely Feeling? It is present in one form or
other (pain, pleasure, etc.), but it is not dis
tinctly ordered by Locke alongside of the other
two divisions.

III. The Understanding .as active. Now we v
pass fro m the Understanding passively receiving
simple Ideas to the Understanding actively pro-
'ducing complex Ideas through its powers of com
bination, comparison, and abstraction, working
upon materials already given in the mind by Sen
sation and Reflection. This sphere especially rep-

440 MODERN E UltOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

resents the intellect as self-active, spontaneously
responding to the stimulation from the outside
world.

Thus we enter the realm of Complex Ideas
built by the Ego out 'of furnished materials,
which are ultimately Simple Ideas. " These
complex Ideas, however compounded and decom
pounded, may all be reduced under three heads:
Modes, Substances, Eelations." (II. 12. 3.)

1. Modes are those complex Ideas " which
contain not in them the supposition of subsist
ing by themselves, but are considered as de
pendencies on or affections of substances." For
instance, gratitude is not self-subsistent, but de
pends on a substance. Furthermore Locke divides
Modes into simple and mixed, and under the
first head discusses Space, Duration, Infinity,
Number, etc. These simple Modes as such can
only be subjective, being modifications which
the Understanding produces from given ma
terials.

2. Substance as Idea is taken *' to represent a
distinct particular thing as self-subsistent," in
which thing "the supposed or confused idea of
Substance is the first and chief." Here we
catch a decided note of dissatisfaction with
Substance, that fundamental category of
the philosophers of the Seventeenth Cen
tury. " Those who first ran into the notion
of Accidents as a sort of real beings that

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 441

needed something to inhere in, were forced to
find out the word Substance to support them "
(II. 13, 19). Great is his disgust, and he con
temptuously cites an American savage to give a
reply to «' our European philosophers " who hold
that " Substance, without knowing what it is, is
that which supports Accidents." Possibly we
may hear echoes of his discussions in Holland,
the home of modern Substance, which is a great
category with both Cartesians and Spinozists.
But Locke hotly invokes death upon this un
known " substrate called Substance, wherein
they (Simple Ideas or Accidents) do subsist,
and from which they do result." (II. 23. 1.)
For if any one " will examine himself," and not
merely swallow the category prescriptively, " he
will find that he has no idea of it at all." Why
not drop the thing? Somehow he cannot, and
so he goes on through many pages expressing his
impatience, and it must be added, his ignorance,
for nowhere in his book does he show more clearly
than just here his philosophical limitations.

3. Relation is the complex Idea which is ob
tained by the Understanding through compari
son of things. " When the mind so considers
one thing that it does, as it were, bring it to and
set it by another, and carries its view from one
to another — this is Relation." (II. 25. 1.) So
we pass from the Idea " of things as they are in
themselves " or Substance to the Idea of things

442 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

gotten " from their comparison one with an
other." Thus Locke brings before us the world
of Relation with its manifold categories, such
as cause and effect, identity and diversity, moral
relations ; here too he seems to place the related or
contrasted qualities of Ideas, as clear and obscure,
distinct and confused, true and false, etc. This
brings him to the last chapter of his Second
Book, which treats of the Association (or Rela
tion) of Ideas.

Locke's view of causality has had a famous
history. - " That which produces any simple or
complex Idea we denote by the general name,
cause; and that which is produced, effect"
(II. 26. 1). Heat is the cause and fluidity the
effect, in relation to wax, this effect, we have
observed " is constantly produced by the appli
cation of a certain degree of heat." Yet there
is something far deeper in the thought of cause
than this description of a relation between two
phenomena. In that long chapter of his on
Power (II. 21), we see his struggles, which
carry him into a discussion of Will as the orginal
source of the idea of Cause. The same two-
foldness appears here as elsewhere in the phi
losophy of Locke.

So much for the three main divisions of Com
plex Ideas, Mode, Substance, and Relation, in
which we may trace a progress if not a process.
For Mode takes the thing in its manifestation,

LOCKERS ESSAY. 443

Substance is the thing in itself, Relation is a bring
ing and holding of the two things together in
thought. Locke of course gives no ground of
these three divisions, and does not bring out
distinctly the connection between them. Still his
reader will fetch to the surface these latent quali
ties of his work, since they belong to the future.

Moreover, in these three terms, Locke as
sumes his attitude toward previous Philosophy,
especially toward that of the Seventeenth Cen
tury. The doctrines of Mode and Substance
belong particularly to Spinoza, though Locke
quite inverts them in order of importance and
changes their meaning. In fact Locke is decidedly
inclined to question the knowledge which complex
Ideas give. We have " but some few superficial
ideas of things " given by Sensation and Reflec
tion ; we have no knowledge " of the internal
constitution of things, being destitute of the fac
ulties to attain it." This would quite invalidate
complex Ideas. Still we must again recollect
that this is but one side of Locke ; he keeps his
complex Ideas notwithstanding, as he does the
self-activity of the mind, of which they are the
product

Such is, we believe, the essential movement
of the Second Book of Locke's Essay, though
many other matters of interest are discussed.
Next he devotes a Book (the Third) chiefly, to
an examination of words or categories — a prac-

444 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHILOSOPH F.

tical, but not profound performance. This we
shall have to omit, and pass at once to the fol
lowing Book, which is an integral part of Locke's
task.

C. FOURTH BOOK. — '• In this Book our philoso
pher may be seen in a kind of reaction against
himself. He is now more metaphysical than
psychological. In fact he begins to appreciate
the metaphysical standpoint better than ever be
fore. Its problem, that of the objective validity
of knowledge, he has to grapple with, and the
result is a more subdued tone in reference to
Metaphysics. Thus the present Book has a
character and indeed a mood of its own. It is
not so negative as the First Book, nor so posi
tive, as the Second. It is plain that Locke
through his psychology, has to return to the
metaphysical views from which he had separated
for his start.

When Locke, accordingly, reaches the Fourth
Book of his Essay, the difficulties of his task
begin to press upon him. He starts to asking,
What is this knowledge, this experience of which
we have been talking? So he defines : " Knowl
edge is the perception of the agreement or the
disagreement of any of our Ideas." Moreover
all our knowledge '« is conversant about our
Ideas " in our Mind, or is confined to the Ego or
subject, which in one way or other unites or
separates its varied contents called Ideas. This

LOCKE'S ESSAY. 445

knowledge with its manifold limitation internally
Locke sets forth quite fully, and with genuine
relish, as this is his favorite theme.

But he cannot help pressing forward to the
grand limitation, the external one, which is in
volved in the question: Has this knowledge
objective validity? Or, as Locke puts it, Has
knowledge any reality? (See Book IV., Chap.
4.) " How shall the mind when it perceives
nothing but its own Ideas, know that they agree
with the things themselves? " So Locke's
psychology (of the Second Book) has brought
him face to face with the hardest problem of
ontology — the objective existence or reality of
knowledge. The problem was not agreeable to
him as he must have been aware of the insuffi
ciency of his answer.

Moreover Locke must have felt that this dif
ficulty was a direct consequence of his denial of
the Philosophy of the Seventeenth Century.
That Philosophy had as its chief task the know
ing of the object by the subject, to be sure,
41 through the concourse of God " in some
form, Cartesian, Spinozan, Leibnizian. Now it
was just this divine interference (invoked to
make mind and matter correspond), which Locke
rejected with emphasis. (Book I.) Hence the
question comes up to Locke with startling vigor :
How can the mind now know that its ideas of
things agree with those things as real? What

446 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

will make mind and matter correspond? Locke
says in regard to simple Ideas: These "must
necessarily be the product of things operating
on the mind in a natural way and producing
therein those perceptions which , by the wisdom and
will of our Maker they (the things) are ordained
and adapted to." How far is this from the
Leibnizian Pre-established Harmony, which also
ordains things so as to produce the corresponding
perception in the mind? This and other similar
passages show that Locke at times suffered a
relapse to the Seventeenth Century.

Still we find Locke hedging as if aware, par
tially at least, of what he had done. Not the
full reality or truth of things is given to us in
our Ideas, "but all the conformity which is in
tended (by our Maker) or which our state re
quires." For these Ideas " represent to us
things under those appearances which they are
fitted to produce in us." Here is plainly the
distinction between things and their appearances
which are given to us by our Ideas. This is
properly the opinion of Locke ; of the thing in
itself we have no knowledge, but only of its ap
pearance which is represented to us by an Idea.
Note, however, for the sake of the future, that
things can produce or cause in us Ideas in con
formity with themselves ; but what if this causa
tive nexus be denied? (This is what Hume will
do.)

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHY. 447

We need follow Locke no further on this
present line. His two extremes, both in his
view unknowable, have shown themselves (and
so are known, in spite of the contradiction).
These are the Ego-in-itself, which we have
noted in treating of the Understanding as such,
on a previous page ; but here we have come
upon the other extreme, the Thing-in-itself.
Between these two limits lies Locke's do
main of knowledge. That is, the phenomenal
object (appearance) stirs the phenomenal Ego
to the production of the knowledge of the
objective world. What a skeptical age will make
out of such a doctrine is to be unfolded here
after. It may be said, however, that the grand
separation between subject and object is now
born, with a prospect of a mighty growth in the
future.

In this same Book Fourth Locke considers
our knowledge of the existence of God. Already
he has treated of Man (Ego) and of the World
(object). Thus our philosopher, seemingly in
spite of himself, embraces the philosophical
Norm in his exposition — Man, World, and God.
From this point ©f view he has reached Philoso
phy in its transmitted order, in which light we
may briefly glance at him.

Ill, LOCKE'S PHILOSOPHY. — Locke begins to
get philosophical in the old sense, with the
introduction of the Norm fin the Fourth Book of

448 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the Essay). The result is a number of changes
and adjustments which do not comport with
what he has previously said (in the First and
Second Books). Here, however, we shall only
mention the fact that he completely re-adjusts
his psychology to the newly appeared Norm.
For now we have three kinds of knowledge :
" I say, then, that we have the knowledge of our
own existence by Intuition; of the existence
of God by Demonstration; and, of other
things by Sensation." Thus we have the
threefold Norm of all Existence : Ego (Man),
God (the Absolute), and Nature (or the world
of things) (Book IV. Chap. 9). Moreover our
knowledge is here ordered according to this
Norm ; it is no longer that of Sensation and
Reflection (Book II.). And we must also note
the complete change in procedure : an external
principle of ordering knowledge is adopted, the
mind no longer arranges its own content directly
out of itself, but according to a transmitted Norm.
This is not the Locke of the First and Second
Books of the Essay, not the revolutionary,
epoch-making Locke. Still we may take a short
look at him clothing himself in the old vesture of

o

thought, as he once deemed it.

1. Metaphysics. Locke was aware of his en
tering a wholly new sphere when he began to
grapple with the metaphysical problem concern
ing "the reality of knowledge." Having gotten

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHY. 449

this Idea, how can I know that it corresponds to
the object of which it is an Idea? A hard, in
fact a disagreeable question for Locke, for he
has tacitly to unsay some of the severe things
which he said about the previous Philosophy,
specially about Innate Ideas. That Intuition
of his which sees immediately existence — how
far is it from the clear and distinct Idea (innate)
of the Seventeenth Century? In fact Locke
uses the two expressions interchangeably: "I
think it is beyond question that man has a clear
Idea of his own being " which he also calls " an
Intuition of his own existence " (Book IV.
Chap. 10). Also such Intuition Locke holds to be
a God-given faculty of mind. All of which shows
a decided tendency to reversion, to fall back
upon what he had previously abandoned.

Locke, having constructed his Theory of
knowledge (Book II.), shows visible signs of
trouble in the following passage in which he
projects his own questionings into his reader : "I
doubt not but my reader (really Locke himself)
by this time may be apt to think that I have been
building all this while only a castle in the air? "
What is the good of the whole thing if " knowl
edge is only the perception of the agreement or
disagreement of our Ideas? " For thus knowl
edge is purely subjective, and cannot be distin
guished from the chimeras of " the most extrava
gant fancy in the world." Accordingly Locke
29

450 MODERN' E UROPEAN PHILOSOPR Y.

braces himself up for a desperate tussle with the
grand metaphysical problem concerning " the
reality of knowledge." The theme is not to his
taste," as we divine him, and is certainly not
adapted to his genius. Already we have given
his solution of this problem.

2. Physics. There is a realm of " other
things" besides God and the human Self, the
knowledge of which is given by Sensation
according to Locke. This kind ©f knowledge
is, moreover, not intuitive, not demonstrative,
but only probable. Hence our philosopher gets
again into a congenial field — human limitation.
The result is we have quite a long discussion of
probability as opposed to certainty (Book IV.
Chaps. 14, 15, 16, etc.).

It is declared by Locke that we can have no
certain knowledge concerning natural bodies.
" Every man's reasoning and knowledge is only
about the ideas existing in his own mind, which
are truly, every one of them, particular exist
ences. The perception of the agreement or dis
agreement of our particular ideas is the whole
and utmost of all our knowledge " (IV. 17. 9).
Properly there is no universality, this being
simply " accidental " to particular knowledge,
and consisting only in this "that the particular
ideas about which it is are such as more than one
particular thing can correspond with or be
represented by." The universal as genus or as

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHY. 451

creative principle of the object is thus denied,
or rather is totally unknown to Locke.

Hence the truths of Nature can only be prob
able, and Natural Science is the field of Probabil-
ism. The induction of particulars, out of which
is said to flow a general principle, cannot give
certainty. But the immediate sensation of the
object is indubitable. The old skeptics doubted
the report of the senses, with Locke it is the
only sure knowledge of the objective world.
Certainty " extends only as far as the present tes
timony of the senses employed about particular
objects." The whole realm of the laws, princi
ples, universal processes of Nature, is but a region
of Probabilities. The particular is the true, the
certain, is indeed the universal.

With such a view Locke is not going to give
a Philosophy of Nature in the old sense of the
word. The thought which is creative of the
Cosmos and which is really its principle, is alien
to Locke who starts with particulars as the real
truth and at most binds them in a dubious gen
erality. To connect Physics with Metaphysics in
one great process of the All, as in Greek and
German Philosophy, is not simply repugnant to
Locke, but lies quite outside of his mental hori
zon. Locke's infinite is but a never-ending
series of" particulars (infinitum imaginationis) ,
not the infinite of self -returning thought (infini
tum rationis). Thus he is separative, analytic,

452 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

particular. He has, instead of creative Thought,
the discursive forms Abstraction and General
ization, for his treatment of facts. Herein his
influence reaches through Anglo-Saxon Psychol
ogy down to the present, for its text-books still
repeat him on this point.

Locke has left us a little book on the " Elements
of Natural Philosophy," in which he follows his
procedure. He picks up the particulars of
Nature and recounts them, beginning with Mat
ter and Motion which have given so much trouble
to those philosophers who ask after essence and
inner principle. Locke, however, is satisfied to
set down certain facts about them, and then he
passes to the Universe, which with him is the
sensible one. We need not follow him in his
details which he carries through the mineral,
vegetable and animal kingdoms, ending with man
who has Understanding, of which our philoso
pher gives a brief abstract connecting with his
Exsay. Thus he connects outwardly his Natural
with his Mental Philosophy.

The external world is thus called to the bar of
" private judgment " which makes science prob
able — the Ego probabilizes the non-Ego. Al
ready in Ancient Philosophy we have seen a simi
lar event, when Carneades of the Middle Academy
developed his doctrine of Probabilism against the
dogmatic Metaphysics of a previous period.
This doctrine is specially fitted for a people of

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHY. 453

the will (like the Romans and the English) who
care little for speculative knowledge in itself.
Science will help rne to act successfully if it will
aid me in finding the probabilities of a course
of conduct, in fact that is all it is good for.

3. Ethics. Locke has no distinct idea of the
connection of Ethics with the other two stages
of the Norm, nor does he show any articulated
knowledge of the total ethical sphere taken by
itself. Still if we cared to select judiciously and
put together all of Locke's scattered statements
which pertain to Ethics, we might make a toler
able showing for this stage of the Norm. But
such a task we cannot here undertake, even if it
were worth the while, which is doubtful.

At present we can only note the institutional
element in Locke, which is dominantly secular,
even if he has a good deal to say about the
Church in some of his books. He dislikes
sacerdotalism and the transmitted authority
which is connected with a religious estab
lishment. Still he is by no means ready to
break with it, in spite of its lack of Toleration
(Locke's great category).

But when Locke comes to the State he is far
more at home and has produced works of much
greater import. His "Treatises on Govern
ment" have a high place in the history of politi
cal science. He is truly the philosopher of the
English Revolution of 1688. One point is of spe-

454 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

cial interest to Americans : he formulated the
threefold division of Government into the
legislative, executive and judicial powers, which
was realized in the Constitution of the United
States. Locke, however, was not the first to
make this division, it is as old as Aristotle. But
he brought it home to the Anglo-Saxon con
sciousness, and through its adoption by Montes
quieu (in the Spirit of the Laws) it became a
matter of European knowledge.

Nor must we omit to mention in this connec
tion Locke's works on Education, which are still
to be read by the teacher who wishes to know
the history of his profession. Locke has no
Public School in the modern sense, no great
Educative Institution. The development of the
individual boy has the stress, and this boy is
conceived as the English gentleman's son, who is
to acquire useful knowledge in order to make
himself useful. The purpose of Education is
not information, but formation.

Locke was a mediocre man, he knows it and
hence his praise of mediocrity. He was men
tally a limited man, and by virtue of his inner
character he became the philosopher of limita
tion. His oft-repeated note is, I cannot under
stand this word and that principle. This we may
deem modesty, a proper appreciation of one's
own limits. Still Locke had sufficient Egotism
to think that what he could not understand, no

LOCKE. — PHILOSOPHY. 455

one else could. Certain words which have meant
much to other thinkers and other ages, have little
or no meaning for him. Descartes, Spinoza,
and Leibniz did have some brains, and they all
employed the word Substance which Locke could
not really understand and so deemed quite idea-
less, though he picked it up again after throwing
it away with contempt.

Hence it comes that Locke has fared hard at
the hands of certain critics. But the people have
adopted him, and he is the most popular of the
great philosophers. In fact if greatness be
measured by extent and persistence of influence,
he is the greatest of them all. Just through his
limitations he became the voice of his age and of
his nation, and has remained to this day the
philosopher of Anglo-Saxoudom. In lecture,
sermon, speech, we still hear Locke with his
fundamental view of human limitation. In read
ing Locke's Essay, the style may seern a little
antiquated, but its thoughts are modern, famil
iar, in fact common-place. They have been
served up to us from infancy, at home, at school,
at church, in numberless books, articles, edi
torials, by people who have never read Locke,
but who participate in that consciousness which
has so completely appropriated him. His great
ness is not to have been too great for his time
and his nation.

456 MODE EN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

2* twme*

We have now reached the supreme represen
tative of the Philosophy of the Eighteenth Cen
tury in its second phase. Of this the great fact
is Skepticism, which is essentially Philosophy
denying Philosophy, and yet remaining philo
sophical ; or Philosophy as negative turns upon
its positive or dogmatic form, undermining the
same and therewith undermining itself. For
when Skepticism has done its work, it itself
must be at an end, as the fire dies which has
consumed its fuel. Such is the inherent dialec
tical process of Skepticism, since it finds out
that it is as dogmatic in negation as Dogmatism
is in affirmation. The skeptic cannot help get
ting skeptical of his own system and indeed of
himself; he denies that he can know truth, but
therein implies the truth of his denial. In time
he becomes conscious of this implied denial of
his own principle ; in fact antagonists will not
fail to point it out ; then he will seek to bolster
up his negation by a fresh denial, which is,
however, the denial of his own denial. Such is
the movement that lies immanent in the very
nature of Skepticism, which movement shows
itself in full reality in the rise, growth and out-

HUME. — PHILOSOPHIC CHARACTER. 457

come of ancient Greek Skepticism, as it unfolded
itself from Pyrrho to Sextus Empiricus.

Now the great and abiding interest of Philoso
phy in Hume is that he repeated this skeptical
process for modern thought, in the heart of the
Eighteenth Century. Hume was a Scotchman;
in this fact, too, we would believe, lies a mean
ing. For of all dogmatic forms of Prostestant-
isin, Scotch Presbyterianism was the most dog
matic, and it has by no means yet lost its love
for heresy-hunting. Hume is primarily a Scotch
reaction against Scotch religious dogmatism;
but his skeptical bent soon carried him
out of Eeligion into Philosophy, in which
also he did not fall to uncover the nega
tion. To the end of his life Hume was
fond of baiting the Presbyterian bear, his
next neighbor. His chief regret for the
utter failure of his first book, the Treatise on
Human Nature, seems to have been that it did
not reach " such distinction as even to excite a
murmur among the zealots." Modern Philos
ophy is essentially a Protestant discipline and has
a religious background ; in Hume it calls up its
denier and becomes the Protestant protest not
only against Protestantism, but against all Relig
ion and Philosophy. And yet Hume in his uni
versal skeptical protest will claim to remain both
religious and philosophical. Herein he shows
the inner contradiction of himself, of his life,

458 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

and also of his time. For just this skeptical
spirit is the true dualistic character of his century .
We must not, therefore, take Hume too seri
ously. He cannot well be a zealous advocate
of the truth of Skepticism, when Skepticism
means that there is no truth. If he was inclined
to such a folly in his youth, when he wrote and
published his Treatise, he "will get over it with
the years. For he must come to see that if
Skepticism is the truth, then its attainment is
its destruction. He cannot be very eager to form
a school or a band of followers for the propa
gation of his doctrine, since if Skepticism is
really believed, that is the end of Skepti
cism. Fervent disciples with faith in their
hearts he does not want; their enthusiasm
would annihilate his whole business. Hence
we shall find a deep characteristic of Hume to
be his hate of enthusiasm; this is a salient
trait of his Writings, notable of his History of
England. Skepticism cannot be enthusiastic
about anything, least of all about itself ; to be
true to itself it must be skeptical of itself.
Hence the leading maxim of the old Skeptics
was to keep yourself in reserve (Epoche), do
not commit yourself. Still the cunning foe re
plied that even in this maxim you committed
yourself to non-committal. Thereupon follows
a second maxim: Say nothing (Aphasia), for

HUME. — PHILOSOPHIC CHARACTER 459

the word in and of itself must assert and so
be dogmatic.

Such consistency lies not in the character of
Hume, who has violated these two skeptical
maxims on all sides. He has not held his tongue,
as we see by his numerous books, nor has he
failed to commit himself on many topics, partic
ularly on Skepticism. He sees the inherent
comedy in the skeptical attitude, nevertheless he
assumes it, and so gives to his entire life a comic
undertone, which often breaks out into a jest or
laugh at himself. In his Dialogues concerning
Natural Religion says one of the characters :
" I shall never assent to so harsh an opinion as
that of a celebrated writer who says that the
skeptics are not a sect of philosophers : they are
only a sect of liars. I may, however, affirm, (I
hope without offence) that they are a sect of
jesters or ralliers. A comedy, a novel, or at
most a history seems a more natural recreation
than such metaphysical substitutes and abstrac
tions," but every one according to his liking.
Hume is aware that his Philosophy is self-de
stroying, that its fulfillment is its annihilation,
that he is pursuing a nugatory, self-undoing end,
that he is a comic figure in such pursuit. Yet
we must recollect that this is not merely a per
sonal whim of his own ; he is the truest repre
sentative of the negative spirit of his own age ;
in fact, the whole Eighteenth Century sees its

460 MODERN' EUROPEAN' PHILOSOPHY.

own Comedy in his Philosophy, which is inher
ently self -annulling and ridiculous even to itself.
Still we must not think that it has no function in
the movement of thought. When the world turns
comic, Philosophy must follow and turn comic
too, in order to let that world see itself in its
essence. Philosophy brings the age to a con
sciousness of itself most adequately in its pure
forms of thinking. Through Hume the age
looked at itself and raised a shout of laughter or
a cry of anger, according to the character of the
spectator; but all had to acknowledge that the
picture was true in the main, and come at last
to the conclusion that there should be a profound
change in the soul of the century. Hume in
spite of himself was a preacher and was calling
sinners to conversion, and this was the uncon
scious part of his Comedy. This was the part
which the Spirit of the Age made him play as its
instrument for its purpose, which was quite the
opposite of his own purpose.

I. HUME'S LIFE. — Before passing to the
details of this part of our subject it is well to take
notice of Hume's views of Life (as practical) in
its opposition to Philosophy (as theoreti
cal). Says he: "The great subverter of the
excessive principles of Skepticism (Pyrrhon
ism) is action, and employment, and the
occupations of common life." Such is, in
Hume's view, the inherent dualism between

HUME. — LIFE. 461

Thought and Action : the one leads necessarily
to Skepticism, the other corrects it. He goes on :
" These (skeptical) principles may nourish and
triumph in the schools, where it is, indeed, diffi
cult, if not impossible, to refute them. But as
soon as they leave the shade, and by the pres
ence of real objects which actuate our passions
and sentiments, are put in opposition to the more
powerful principles of our nature, they vanish
like smoke, and leave the most determined
skeptic in the same condition as other mortals."
This is Hume the skeptic, who furthermore de
clares that Skepticism cannot " have any con
stant influence on the mind," being just that
uncertainty which is uncertain of all things, and
most uncertain of itself. "All discourse, all
action would immediately cease, and men remain
in a total lethargy." The skeptic's Thought
must destroy his Will; that is, all Philosophy
being Skepticism, hamstrings Action. " The
first and most trivial event in Life will put to
flight all his doubts and scruples," and he will
become like any other sensible man. " When
he awakes from his dream, he will be the first
to join in the laugh against himself, and to con
fess that all his objections are mere amusement,
and can have no other tendency than to show the
whimsical condition of mankind." Surely this
is a letting of the cat out of the bag; Hume
here confesses that Skepticism is a " dream, its

462 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

play of subtlety a mere amusement;" the skeptic
" will be the first to join in the laugh against
himself," he being at bottom a comic character,
and consciously comic at that.

All these extracts are taken from a Section
(XII. Part II.) of An Enquiry concerning the
Human Understanding, in which Section he casts
a glance back at Skepticism generally and at
himself in particular. He makes a distinction
between excessive or Pyrrhonian Skepticism ( to
which he applies the previous description), and
the mitigated or Humian Skepticism, " which
may be both durable and useful," though
having but a " small tincture of Pyr
rhonism," if this be " corrected by common
sense and reflection." And yet Hume is a
Pyrrhonist theoretically, and cannot help him
self. Our senses do not give us any certain
knowledge of the object, says Pyrrho. Now
listen to Hume: " Men always suppose the very
images presented by the senses to be the external
objects. This very table which we see white,
and which we feel hard, is believed to exist, inde
pendent of our perception, and to be external to
our mind which perceives it. But this universal
and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed
by the slightest philosophy, which teaches us that
nothing can ever be present to the mind but an
image or perception, and that the senses are only
the inlets through which these images are con-

HUME. — LIFE. 463

veyed without being able to produce any imme
diate intercourse between the mind and the
object." (Enquiry, XII. Part I.) Pyrrhonian
Skepticism never said* more, never could say
more than this. But when we add Hume's
denial of causation, declaring that the object can
never be known as the cause of the image, he
is more Pyrrhonian than Pyrrho himself. It is
true that he does not always maintain this posi
tion. But here he does, just in his criticism of
Pyrrho, whom he will " mitigate ' ' and make use
ful by the addition of a little " common sense,"
of which Hume has such an abundance.

A word upon these utilities of " mitigated"
Skepticism. First, it " might abate the pride "
of the dogmatists, since "the greater part of
mankind are naturally apt to be affirmative and
dogmatical in their opinion," and ought to be
taken down a peg. But the chief advantage is
the second: thereby we would be brought to
limit " our inquiries to such subjects as are best
adapted to the narrow capacity of human under
standing." What, then, are these subjects?
First, " abstract reasoning about quantity and
number," that is, Mathematics. Second, " ex
perimental reasoning about matter of fact and
existence," that is, empirical science. All the
rest "commit to the flames, for it can contain
nothing but sophistry and illusion." Suppose
we apply this test to David Hume's works. Has

46 4 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

he written anything on Mathematics? Appar
ently not a page. Has he devoted his pen to
the empirical sciences? To some extent, doubt
less; yet this part of his work has a tendency
to drop into the background, while his Philoso
phy keeps advancing in importance, though con
taining " nothing but sophistry and illusion,"
according to his own judgment.

Again we must bethink ourselves and not take
Hume too seriously, not more seriously than he
takes himself. We have already seen that he
deems the skeptic not a liar indeed, but a rallier,
a sort of world- joker. The matter which the
rest of mankind are very earnest about, namely,
the knowledge of Truth, he turns into a self-
contradiction, the pursuit of which makes life
an enjoyable comedy. What has such a man
left for himself but to gratify his senses? Still
Hume did not indulge his appetites to excess ;
though a born voluptuary, he turned his nature
into philosophy, and advocated that which he
never tried to realize. Hume seems ancient Epi
curus re-incarnated, who also practiced temper
ance, but preached indulgence. Sensation is the
man, so let him see that it be pleasant while he
lasts. To be sure Hume did not literally follow
any such doctrine to its consequences in conduct.
He was frugal, sober, industrious. Still the
thing lay in him naturally and came out not

HUME. — LIFE. 465

through his body but through his brain, not
through his action but through his thought.

And yet that body of his had its suggestion.
The following bit of description touches this
point, and has been selected and handed down
by friendly biographers: "Nature. I believe,
never formed any man more unlike his real
character than David Hume. The powers of
physiognomy were baffled by his countenance ;
neither could the most skillful in that science
pretend to discern the smallest trace of the
faculties of his mind in the unmeaning feature of
his visage. His face was broad and flat, his
mouth wide, without any other expression than
imbecility; his eyes vacant and spiritless; and
the corpulence of his whole person was far better
fitted to convey the idea of a turtle-eating
alderman than that of a refined philosopher.
His speech in English was rendered ridiculous
by the broadest Scotch accent, and his French
was, if possible, still more laughable; so that
wisdom most certainly never disguised herself
before in such an uncouth garb." (Written by
Lord Charlemont who saw Hume at Turin in
1748.)

This report is given by an admirer, and may
be taken as trustworthy, though in our opinion,
the first sentence should be modified. Nature
knew what she was about when she put David
Hume into such a body, making him on the one
30,

466 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

hand a great flabby, lubberly fat man, and on
the other a philosopher, and then uniting the two
in one person whose Philosophy will necessarily
be the contradiction of all Philosophy. His
picture by Allan Ramsey says something of the
kind. A contemporary anecdote of him cele
brates the fact " that even David Hume, for all
his great figure as a Philosopher and Historian,
or his greater as a fat man, was obliged to make
one of three in a room " at a crowded inn. We
understand a little humorous touch of self-de
scription in the same way : I am "a sober, discreet,
virtuous, frugal, regular, quiet, good-natured
man, of a bad character." Hume never dis
guised his own view of himself and of his part;
if all the world is a comedy, he, as a member of
the troupe, must be comic also even to himself,
and " be the first to join in the laugh against him
self." Let the philosopher of idealism be lean
and hollow-eyed ; the philosopher of sensism, who
holds that all there is of him is a huge periphery
of sensation, should be a fat man of no small
diameter, and thus truly represent his Philoso
phy incarnate. Report makes of Hume a jolly,
all-round, good fellow, who could " join in the
laugh against himself." Still there was to this
a limit also, in the nature of the case. Doubt
less a chief reason why Hume did not like the
Londoners was their excessive merriment at the
fat philosopher; his puffing, shuffling manner,

HUME. — LIFE. 467

his broad Scotch dialect, his provincial ways
amused the literary cockneys of the metropolis
just a little too much for him "to join in the
laugh against himself ;" on the contrary, twice
at least, after intending to settle at London, he
took to flight from that unappreciative city,
speeding sooner or later back to auld Scotland
and bonnie Edinboro, where ruled the canny
Scotch accent, and where he was easily the
chief of the literary clan.

1. On the whole the First Period of Hume's
Life may be considered to conclude with the
publication of his first and greatest philosophical
work, which is still regarded as his epoch-making
production. This is A Treatise of Human Nature,
the final volume of which was given to the world
when Hume was twenty-nine years old (1740).
It is one of the very rare instances in which a
philosophical work is composed by a young man,
who never afterwards equals his youthful attempt.
But the exception is only apparent. Hume's
book is not a great constructive effort of philoso
phy, but is critical, negative, destructive. Archi
tectonic power of thought it does not show; that
is always a later fruit of philosophic genius. A
young fellow usually thinks he knows better than
the old heads around him, and is inclined to at
tack what has been transmitted. In this respect
Hume remained young as long as he philoso-

468 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

phized, though in other respects he toned down
not a little.

David Hume was born in Edinburg, April 26th,
1711 (O. S.). This city remained all his life
the center from which he often went forth and
to which he as often returned. Of his early edu
cation little is known. In his autobiography
he merely says: " I passed through the ordinary
course of education with success." But the chief
fact of it in his memory is that " I was seized
with a passion for literature, which has been the
ruling passion of my life." His people intended
him for the law, but while they fancied he was
poring upon jurisprudence, " Cicero and Virgil
were the authors I was secretly devouring."

From these hints we can trace certain general
lines of his future literary tendencies. His
ancient culture was Latin, not Greek directly:
that is, it was derived from the Roman reflection
of Hellenic learning, particularly of Hellenic
Philosophy. He never drank, or at best but
very little, from the great original sources of
Greek Thought, Plato and Aristotle. He hardly
knew their tongue at the formative period of his
doctrine. Not till after he had published his
Treatise, his most original book, and the first part
of his Essays, when he was already past thirty
and beyond his First Period, did he recover
"the knowledge of the Greek language which I
had too much neglected in my early youth,"

HUME.— LIFE. 469

during school years. His model and his moulder
was unquestionably Cicero. His style and the
attitude of his mind are largely though not
wholly Ciceronian. To our taste, Hume's philo
sophical style is in the main an improvement on
that of Cicero, being quite devoid of the wordy
rhetorical roll of the thrice-repeating Roman
rhetorician.

The question comes up whether Hume ever
drew anything from Sextus Empiricus, the great
fountain of learning in regard to Greek Skepti
cism. From the frequent mention Hume makes
of the name of Pyrrho, a book by Sextus is
brought to mind, called the Pyrrhonian Hypoty-
poseis. But the Skepticism of Hume (as he re
peatedly declares) is not Pyrrhonian and Greek,
but Academic and Eclectic, that is Ciceronian
and Roman. At least such he claimed and in
tended it to be, even if he was in part mistaken.
The Roman age of Cicero was a disbelieving,
skeptical, revolutionary age like the Eighteenth
Century. The Romans, Cicero's audience, were
essentially a will-people and still remained Roman
even when accepting some intellectual varnish
from Greek culture. A late Greek, Plutarch,
has specially set forth this fact in his Parallel
Lives, and the same fact is strongly brought out
by Shakespeare in his Roman play, Julius Ocesar.
Now, the English are also a will-people, and have
been a hundred times called the modern Romans.

470 MODERN E UROPEAtf PHILOSOPHY.

They have, likewise, the Roman trait of permit
ting a little philosophic varnish to be applied to
their marvelous active life, if it be not rubbed in
too deep, after the German or Greek fashion,
and if it be kept strictly within the limits of its
decorative purpose. This was Hume's audience,
and his literary function was similar to that of
Cicero, with a similar relation to his age and na
ture. It is no wonder, then, that the literary Ro
man became his teacher, from whom he took his
skeptical attitude rather than from Sextus Empi-
ricus or the Greeks.

To this Roman source we must add the Eng
lish influence which brought him philosophically
into his own century. This influence was Locke*
whose theory of knowledge was the chief means
through which Hume's Latin culture was trans
formed into the philosophy of the time. Locke's
psychological forms are taken by Hume and
pushed into Skepticism, which is not by any
means alien to them. The skeptical bent and
training of Hume easily put a corresponding
content into what was already facing in that
direction. Such are the two main sources of the
Treatise on Human Nature.

Hume wrote this book after some struggles
and fluctuations. His means being limited, he
went to Bristol to try a mercantile calling; " but
in a few months I found that scene totally un
suitable to me." He gave it up forever; thence

HUME. — LIFE. 471

he passed over to France for the purpose of
study, where he stayed three years, chiefly at
La Fleche, the scene of the early education of
Descartes who also began his doubt there, his de
omnibus dubitandum. In this French village
the most of Hume's book was written. Return
ing with his manuscript to London, he succeeded
in getting a publisher, but the work " fell dead-
born from the press," in the words of his auto
biography.

The failure of Hume's first book undoubtedly
makes a turning-point in his career. Like all
young authors, and some old ones, he dreamed
that his production was the greatest of its time,
and that it would at once bring him money and
fame. The first part of the dream was largely
true, the second part was totally false. Hume
did not see that the very merit of his book
doomed it to failure at the start. But experi
ence teaches him the lesson. Moreover he
must have bread to satisfy the one appetite, and
he must have literary success to satisfy the
other appetite, " the ruling passion of my life."
Restarts out to get both in a fresh pursuit.

2. This gives the Second Period (1740-1763),
which shows him succeeding in both objects. He
will put abounding cash into his pocket, and will
get such a dose of fame, particularly at Paris,
that even his enormous greed for it will turn to
satiety; at least he will say so. The trend of

172 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

his life now is the practical. He will not re
nounce literature, " his ruling passion," but he
will adjust it to his audience. He takes a new
measure of the public, and carefully spies out the
way to capture the citadel of popular applause.
He does not propose to run his head against its
stone walls any more. The failure of the Trea
tise has taught him the important practical
principle of accommodation. The result is a
significant change in his literary attitude, which
extends even to his style. Previously (in the
First Period) his standpoint was the thing to be
done, now (in his Second Period) it is in his
audience, to which he intends to accommodate
himself. He will storm the fortress, if not of
Truth at least of Popularity, and for the rest of
his life he will revel in the good things which he
finds there as the spoils of his victory.

The Second Period will show two strands run
ning separately and yet intertwining in a double
life-line. These two strands we may call the
speculative and the practical, the turning within
and the turning without, the realm of thought
and the realm of affairs. Hume will show him
self doubly successful — as a writer of books and
as a man of business. His books, however,
mean business, and his business means books.

In his two volumes of Essays, published in
1741 and in 1742, he began to win that literary
renown which was his chief ambition. A year

HUME, — LIFE. 473

or so later he seems to have been spoken of for
the chair of Moral Philosophy in the University
of Edinburg, but the plan caine to naught, and
Hume, like the four great modern philosophers
who preceded him, did his work outside of any
University. In 1745 he went to live with the
Marquis of Annandale, a crazy young nobleman
of great wealth who had been " charmed with
something contained in the Essays." It was a
melancholy situation, and ended in a lawsuit;
still Hume records that " my appointments
during that time made a considerable accession
to my small fortune." He then received an
invitation from General St. Clair to attend him
as a secretary to his expedition, " which was at
first meant against Canada, but ended in an
incursion on the coast of France " — a miserable
business. In 1747 he attended the same General
on an embassy to the courts of Vienna and Turin,
during which " I wore the uniform of an officer,
and was introduced at these courts as aide-de
camp to the General." Thus he catches
glimpses of high life. It was at Turin that
Lord Charlemont saw him and celebrated his
corpulence, his broad Scotch accent, and his
ridiculous French. Hume, however, was pro
foundly satisfied with himself during this pe
riod, for, besides having an agreeable time and
good company, "my appointments, with my
frugality, had made me reach a fortune which I

474 MODERN EUROPEAN- PHILOSOPHY.

called independent ; in short I was now master
of near a thousand pounds."

At the end of this tour Hume gravitates back
to Scotland, first to the county seat of his family
and then to Edinburg. In 1752 the Faculty of
Advocates chose him as their Librarian, which
office, though the pay was small, "gave me the
command of a large library. I then formed
the plan of writing the History of England,"
altogether the most widely read of Hume's
literary productions, and by no means left be
hind in the race to-day, as the numerous popular
editions testify. There is no question about the
abiding charm of this historical work, which no
amount of hostile criticism (certainly justifiable
in many ways) can seriously affect with the
great public. We are of the opinion that the
fame of Hume the historian has decidedly
helped to preserve the fame of Hume the phi
losopher. But this work too was very un
favorably received on its appearance, and the
failure touched Hume deeply. The grapes were
indeed very sour, if we may judge by the fol
lowing extract from a letter to a friend: "As
to the approbation of those blockheads who call
themselves the public whom a bookseller, a lord,
a priest or a party can guide, I do most heartily
despise it." His disgust becomes so great, that
he resolves to leave Edinburg and go to London,
*' probably to remain there during life." Yet

HUME.— LIFE. 475

his dislike of Englishmen was too deep, and Eng
lishmen had no great love for the thrifty Scotch.
Accordingly he is soon back in Edinburg again,
and takes a house, as if he meant now to stay.
Meantime his books have been selling rapidly ;
" the copy-money given me by the booksellers
much exceeded anything formerly known in
England; I was become not only inde
pendent but opulent." He has attained the
object of his ambition; he is famous and
rich. Great is his satisfaction; "I retired
to my native country of Scotland, deter
mined never more to set foot out of it;"
and being now turned of fifty ," I thought of
passing all the rest of my life in this philosophi
cal manner." He has written his books, having
finished his History of England; he has carried
through successfully both strands of life, the
practical and theoretical, with which his Second
Period started. Those two great antagonists,
Philosophy and Business, he has harmoniously
combined in his career, in spite of all the cap
rices of fortune. Let him enjoy henceforth his
philosophic leisure.

But a voice comes to him in his retirement
which stirs anew " my ruling passion, my love
of literary fame." He is invited to go to Paris,
the literary center of Europe; can he resist?
Hardly.

3. So a Third Period (1763-1776) of Hume's

476 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

life opens, lasting till his death. It is a time of
fruition; having done his work, he will enjoy
the rewards of fame and money, these being
about all that there is in life according to Hume.
He never had a family of his own, no wife and
children ; he has no great thought, whose truth
he wishes to propagate, for his phil®sophy is
that there is no truth. Very different was
Hume's successor in the philosophic line, Kant,
who wrote his greatest book at fifty-seven, and
kept up the battle for the Idea till he was eighty.
And Locke, Hume's predecessor, tilled and
sowed to the last, with faith in his heart. One
thing, however, will rouse Hume; a further
opportunity for indulging in " my ruling pas
sion, the love of literary fame," with some
money thrown in.

In 1763 Hume " received an invitation from the
Earl of Hertford to attend him on his embassy
to Paris, with a near prospect of being appointed
secretary to the embassy." He at first declined,
but then accepted *' on his lordship's repeating
the invitation," evidently with the addition that
the uncertain prospect should be made certain,
for we soon read that " I was secretary to the
Embassy." But here again trouble arose. The
appointment had been given to an incapable man,
who stayed in London, but drew the salary
(1200 pounds). From this fact the American
politician will have to acknowledge that he did

HUME. — LIFE. 477

not originate what in the slang of to-day is called
" graft." Poor Hume had to be contented with
a temporary pension of 200 pounds and a prom
ise. It is no wonder that his letters at this time
show an increased dislike of "those barbarians
who inhabit the banks of the Thames."

But if the side of money did not turn out as
well as was expected, the side of flattery, the
gratification of " my ruling passion," transcended
all bounds. At Paris the first question usually
addressed to an Englishman was, " Do you know
Mr. Hume? " With truth the latter might now
write to a friend: " Paris is the place I have al
ways admired most. ' ' It is said that the Dauphin
at Versailles had his three boys recite prepared
speeches praising Hume when the latter visited
the royal palace.

But even the colossal appetite of Hume began
to be sated. He writes to Adam Smith : " Dur
ing two days at Fontainebleau I have suffered
(the expression is not improper) as much flattery
as almost any man has ever done in the same
time." So the deluge kept pouring, pouring;
royalty, nobility, the ladies, and chiefly the
French philosophers and literary men, went wild
with enthusiasm over a man who did not believe
in enthusiasm unless perchance it was directed
toward himself. We hear of Diderot, D'Alem-
bert, the French encyclopedists, uniting in a kind
of religious procession to burn incense to their

478 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

God who seems suddenly to have appeared in
person.

What is the meaning of it all? the reader of
to-day still queries. What had Hume done to
call forth such a tremendous outburst of recogni-

o

tion at Paris, so that " no author ever attained
to an equal degree of reputation during his life
time?" In order to get an answer we ha^e to
look into what was then simmering and ferment
ing in the spirit of the French people. The Revo
lution was preparing itself for an outbreak in
the heart of that gay fluttering mass which
surged around Hume, and for once manifested
something like worship. The greatest European
prophet of Negation had .appeared right in the
center of his fellow-believers who believed
not. The result was a mighty shout of saluta
tion and welcome which shook that Pari
sian Pandemonium to its nethermost depths,
and gave to all who could look into the seeds of
Time, a shiver of foreboding at the deed which
was rapidly approaching. The negative, de
structive Eighteenth Century celebrated a kind of
prelude to its real drama in this reception of
Hume, which can only be understood by taking
into account the state of France at that time.
Paris was the scene where the spectacle was to
be played from beginning to end, and Paris now
gives a greeting to the foreign philosopher of
her coming destiny, which not only illustrates his

BUMS, — LIFE. 479

doctrine in its world-historical meaning, but
vividly reflects that city's present disposition and
future possibilities. In some such fashion we may
explain to ourselves the magnitude of Hume's
reception; it was a symbol of the time and a
symptom of what all felt to be about to break
forth. Hume was truly recognized as the
supreme representative of the Spirit of the Age,
as the very soul of the Eighteenth Century now
marching forward to its last act. To that God
less set he appeared as the God-destroying God,
and was at once hailed with divine honors.

But how is it across the Channel? England
looks on with a passive, stolid amazement; one
thing is clear, she is not going to travel that
Parisian road to the future, and she will not take
any such God. Hume feels this, and it is the
deepest source of his dislike of Englishmen,
"those barbarians who inhabit the banks of the
Thames," and who have no "taste for litera
ture," at least, such as Paris raves over. Hume
shouts across the water (by letter) in answer to
the warnings of a friend : ' ' Am I an English
man? I am a citizen of the world, but if I were
to adopt any country, it would be that in which
I live at present." Hume refused to follow Lord
Hertford from Paris to Dublin in the position of
secretary. That were " like stepping out of light
into darkness." France was Humian, England
was not ; France was pushing forward to the com-

480 MODERN EUROPEAN" PHILOSOPHY.

pletion of her negative thought, to Eevolution;
England was not going in that direction. She
had turned down another road at the dethrone
ment of the House of Stewart, of which Hume
had made himself the panegyrist in his history.
Just in this separation lay the profound antago
nism between Hume and the English conscious
ness which, though sensist in philosophy, like
Locke, stops short with him at its negative con
sequences.

One of the interesting episodes of this last
Period was Hume's connection with Eousseau,
the great French apostle and incarnation of the
Eighteenth Century, whom Hume at first re
garded as "a greater genius than Socrates,"
but afterwards as " a compound of wickedness
and madness. " The story cannot be told here,
but it may fairly be said that Eousseau brought
home to Hume in person a considerable foretaste
of the consequences of the latter's own negative
doctrine.

The philosophical activity of Hume was now
closed and he had attained fame and wealth.
These he enjoyed till the end, which came at
Edinburg, August 25th, 1776.

II. HUME'S WRITINGS. --It is a unique fact
in the literary career of Hume that he wrote his
great philosophical work first of all his works, in
young-manhood. Thus he unfolds out of a cen
tral production into his special lines. Locke and

HUME.— LIFE, 481

Kant develop in the opposite way — the master
piece in each of their cases ripens late ; they un
fold into it, not out of it, making it the end
rather than the beginning. And so it has been
with quite all the great philosophers. The
Treatise of Human Nature, written when Hume
was between twenty-one and twenty-five years of
age, is his greatest book in the eyes of the pres
ent age, and has required the longest time for its
appreciation.

We may deem it an explosive book, bursting
outwards from a pent-up center, a kind of bomb,
an outbreak like that of a Eevolution. Thus the
manner of its production is characteristic of its
theme and of its period. This is, accordingly,
the book of Hume's which we shall specially
single out in the present connection. It is more
direct, more sincere, than any later book of his ;
in fact he never afterward forgave his own sin
cerity in the writing of it. It abounds in self-
reference, in a naive Egoism ; indeed he is doing
nothing else but examining his own Ego, in
which lies all knowledge, according to his view.

We find again that it is the single work which
we are to study and analyze in order to acquire
the Philosophy of Hunie, who goes his own way
without any conscious regard for the Norm . This
work is known under its short title as
31

482 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

HUME'S TREATISE.

In the introduction we see our philosopher
seeking for some principle of organizing his
theme. This pertains to what he calls Hu
man Nature, or those original endowments
which Nature (not God) has conferred upon
man. These endowments properly ordered
and set forth would constitute "the Science of
Man," which Hume deems the fundamental
Science, since " all the Sciences have a relation
greater or less to Human Nature," and ultimately
" return back to it by one passage or other."
They are " dependent on the Science of Man,"
inasmuch as they * ' lie under the cognizance of men
and are judged of by their powers and faculties."
Thus Human Nature can only be man's Ego with
"its powers and faculties," and its Science
(which is properly Psychology) is the funda
mental one. This is a very important statement,
even if Hume sees this Science as merely subjec
tive.

Moreover Hume mentions two other great de
partments of knowledge, or, as we may say, of
Philosophy, so that his scheme is as follows : —

(1) Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and
Natural Religion he puts together as farthest
removed from the Science of Man, yet going
back to it for " cognizance."

HUME'S TREATISE. 483

(2) Logic, Morals, Criticism and Politics form
another class of Sciences whose "connexion with
Human Nature is more close and intimate."

(3) The basic Science is that of Human Na
ture, and this is just the Science which our phi
losopher proposes to set forth in the present
Treatise — really the Science of all Sciences,
treated in a new way, "experimentally," that
is, by the self-analysis of the Ego. Hume calls
it also Metaphysics, a designation for Psychology
or Mental Science which reaches down to the
present time.

Hume will pay small attention to this classifi
cation, but it has an interest for us as it shows
a dim consciousness of the philosophical Norm.
Here is the threefold division of the normative
Sciences which suggest from afar the trans
mitted division into Metaphysics, Physics, and
Ethics. So we have the right to say that Hume
also shows remotely the influence of the Norm.
In fact, he cannot well help himself if he is
going to philosophize at all.

But in the present book Hume proposes to deal
with the Science of Human Nature (his Meta
physics). So we seek for his division of this
subject, and are at first surprised that he gives
none at the start. But looking through his en
tire book, and observing its main topics, we find
that he has primarily a threefold division, as
follows : —

484 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

A. The Understanding.

B. The Passions.

C. Morals.

He does not deem it necessary to give any justi
fication of this division, he simply finds it in his
mind " experimentally " and that is enough. Of
course the analysis of the book must proceed on
these same lines.

A. The Understanding. Hume now begins
classifying, of which there gets to be an excess,
for he does not use all the divisions which he
makes. The result is confusion, for Hume is
not an easy writer to organize, his much-praised
clearness is on the surface, but underneath he
often grows turbid.

He starts with " Perceptions of the mind,"
which are of two kinds — Impressions and Ideas.
The Idea is "a faint Impression," primarily,
but it is also called " a faint image" of an
Impression.

Each of these two divisions is sub-divided.
Impressions are of two kinds, Sensation and Re
flection. Sensation is immediate, is an Impres
sion which " strikes upon the senses; " but this
Sensation becomes an image which in its turn
produces a new Impression which Hume calls an
Impression of Reflection or Passion. The Idea
as Image is repeated by the mind in two ways —
the more lively and immediate is Memory, the
less vivacious is the Imagination. To these two

HUME'S TREATISE. 485

is added the uniting principle of the separate
Ideas in the mind, which principle is the Asso
ciation of Ideas.

We notice in this inventory that Hume does
not deduce or introduce directly the faculty of
which he is treating, the Understanding, though
it is spoken of by the way. Still less does he
attempt to formulate the nature of Reason. We
notice also that back of his procedure lurks the
mind which is, however, not brought to the sur
face and shown making all these distinctions and
separate " faculties " of itself.

We shall, however, proceed at once to the
nerve of Hume's treatment of the Understanding :
his doctrine of causation. The idea of cause (a
priori) in the mind is an illusion, since there is
no impression of sense from which it can be
derived as image. The relation of cause and

O

effect in the object is also an illusion, since it is
inconceivable that cause should produce effect.
How then do we come by the notion of cause?
Simply by custom; we are accustomed to see
two particular things or events in succession or
conjunction, and so we get into the habit of say
ing that one causes the other. All that we can
see or is, is the particular; anything universal or
necessary like cause is a figment of the mind.

Such is Hume's denial of causation which, if
carried out strictly, would destroy both physical
and mental Science. We could not even have

486 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the Impression, which Hume himself declares to
be caused by something unknown. It is mani
fest that Hume, starting with Locke's limited
sphere of knowledge, that of the phenomenal
Ego knowing the phenomenal object, has run
his dividing line between these two sides of it
and separated them entirely. Having accom
plished this negative feat which completely un
does the Understanding of which he has been
treating, he passes to his next leading division.

B. The Passions. To this subject the Second
Book of the Treatise is devoted. Hume derives
the Passion from the original or immediate Im
pression. He conceives the Passion to spring
from a reflective activity of the Impression,
" either immediately or by the interposition of
its Idea." That is, the original Impression is a
sensation (say a pain), while the secondary Im
pression is a reflection of the original one (say,
fear, which is a reflection of the pain, in Hume's
technique). Thus Passion has a double ele
ment, it is an Impression of an Impression, or
an inner sensation responding to an outer one.

Of these Passions or reflected Impressions
Hume gives three main divisions : —

(1) Pride and Humility. These, " though
directly contrary, have the same object." More
over «' this object is the Self" which Hume
defines as " a succession of related ideas and im
pressions of which we have an intimate memory

HVM&8 TREATISE. 487

and consciousness" (Treatise Bk. II. Pt. I.
Sect. II.). These two Passions Hume calls
natural, being " original qualities of the mind "
belonging to Human Nature of which he is here
treating.

(2) Love and Hatred. These are still reflected
Impressions or inner sensations, but with a
changed object which is no longer our own self,
but another self, " some other person," or
"some sensible being external to us."

(3) The Will and direct Passions. (The
preceding are indirect Passions, as arising from
pain or pleasure, not purely, but "by the con
junction of other qualities.") Direct Passions
are " the Impressions which arise immediately
from good and evil, from pain and pleasure " (Bk.
II. Pt. III. Sec. I.). Here Hume places the
Will, which with him is " the internal Impression
we feel and are conscious of when we knowingly
give rise to any new motion of the body, or new
perception of our mind.". It is well to note the
declaration, " we give rise " to the movement of
the body and of the mind ; for Hume also holds
that there is the same necessity " in all the op
erations of the mind," as is seen " in the actions
of matter." Eeason cannot control Passion, but
" is, and ought to be, the slave of the Passions,"
in which statement we can see the germ of
Hume's Morals on its negative side. Moreover,

488 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

" Passion is an original existence," and cannot
be subject to Reason.

C. Morals. Hume deemed this work (in the
later form of the Inquiry) as " incomparably
the best of all my writings, historical, philo
sophical, or literary." This judgment posterity
has not confirmed. In fact, if we compare the
first section of the Treatise with the first section
of the Inquiry on the subject of Morals, we
can see how much the former surpasses the
latter in force of statement and sincerity of
purpose, and how much Hume (in his Second
Period) could water his style and even his con
viction for the sake of popularity.

The next question is, What kind of an Im
pression is the moral one? «' Here we cannot
remain long in suspense, but must pronounce the
Impression arising from virtue to be agreeable
and that proceeding from vice to be uneasy '
(Bk. III. Pt. I. Sect. II.). We call an action
virtuous if it produces a pleasant impression ;
vice on the contrary makes us uneasy. A sense
of duty or morality cannot of itself be a motive
to virtuous conduct. By nature we are so con
stituted that we praise certain deeds, and blame
others. Such is the moral sense or sentiment,
original, natural, subjective, a feeling or impres
sion.

The Third Book (on Morals) opens with a
strong attack on Reason as the source of moral

HUME. — PHILOSOPHY. 489

distinctions. Passion is not and cannot be sub
ordinated to Reason, as writers on Morals have
said from old Greek times down to the present.
Reason can at most compare and put together
Ideas, whereas Morality is an Impression prima
rily, and " excites passions and produces or pre
vents actions." Hence it is "an original fact
and reality, complete in itself," without compari
son or any relation. In this way Morality is
brought back to Impression, with which the
Understanding also started.

Thus Hume has reduced mind to Impression
or Feeling. Knowledge^comes from Impression,
so does Passion, so does Morality. These Im
pressions are an original endowment of Human
Nature, the given, the presupposed, really the
transmitted. The immediate spontaneous activ
ity of Feeling is the true original thing in man,
being the basic fact of Human Nature. Even
the conflict of duty is the conflict of pain and
pleasure. In a number of points Hume is the
forerunner of the recent Physiological Psy
chology.

III. HUME'S PHILOSOPHY. — Already we have
noted that in the introduction to his Treatise
Hume shows a faint glimmer of the philosophi
cal Norm. Moreover, if we put together his
writings, he would furnish a good deal of mate
rial for Metaphysics and Ethics, or, in the

490 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

language of the time, Mental and Moral
Philosophy.

On the other hand Hume would furnish little
or nothing for Physics or Natural Philosophy,
though he claims to have derived his method of
treating mind or Human Nature (as distinct from
Material Nature) from the new natural Science.
In fact Hume proceeds chemically in his Treatise.
He takes all the varied complex phenomena of
mind, and reduces them to certain simple irre
ducible elements called Impressions or Feelings.
To decompound this composite Human Nature,
to analyze it into its final units, is his procedure,
showing him to belong in the heart of the chem
ical Century.

Thus Hume seeks to get back to the primary
immediate act of Human Nature as Impression or
Feeling, which can only be subjective and par
ticular. Any objective universal truth he denies.
His rejection of causation cuts the mind off from
any knowledge of the object, even of the phe
nomenal object. And yet the mind (according to
Hume) must accept the object, accept the very
thing which it rejects, know the very thing which
it cannot know. Thus the mind as knowledge
dwells in a perpetual contradiction with itself;
cognition has to cognize the very thing which it
cannot cognize. Intelligence is completely cleft
in twain, separated within itself from itself by
an impassable chasm. To such an inner dualism

HUME. — PHILOSOPHY. 491

the Century of Negation has brought itself.
All mind is so deeply self-divided that it cannot
get back to itself. There is no return within,
no reconciliation of the two sides; the divided
consciousness we may call it, the age's own
consciousness reflected in its representative phi
losopher, who here commits philosophical suicide.
For Philosophy denies the possibility of our
knowing the object which nevertheless we know.
To think is simply to annihilate thought.

We have already seen that Locke has left us a
circumscribed sphere of knowledge, beyond
which the mind cannot pass. But through this
limited sphere Hume has run a second line of
division, a diametral line, as it were, which cuts
off all knowledge of the object and confines our
knowing to the subject, and even this is reduced
to Impression or Feeling.

Now it is at this point that our next great
philosopher of the Century, Kant, begins to
wake up and to stir himself, having been shaken
out of his " dogmatic slumber " by the negation
of Hume. Kant's question is, How can I save
knowledge? In what way can I rescue experience,
or at least some fragment of it? Kant will still re
main inside the circumscribed sphere marked out
by Locke, to whom he is a return, though not a
relapse. By a new and thorough analysis of the
process of knowledge he will seek to break down

492 MODERN EUROPEAN- PHILOSOPHY.

or rather break over (through his Ego) that dia
metral line drawn so remorselessly by Hume
against all cognition of the objective world,
and also to vindicate by the way very impor
tant powers for the subject. At the same time
Kant will have his negative side, which in one
direction will be even deeper than that of Hume.

KANT. — PHIL OSOPHIC CHARACTER. 493

3* IRant

The Philosophy of the Eighteenth Century
now passes back from England to the Teutonic
Continent, where we saw Modern Philosophy in
its supreme representatives start and stay during
the Seventeenth Century. But this return is not
to Holland or to the Western branch of the Conti
nental Teutons ; it reaches to the extreme Eastern
border where the Teutonic race touches and is
intermingled with the Slavonic. Thus, Philoso
phy seems to turn back to the primal boundary
of its present racial supporter and propagator, as
if to embrace the entire kindred, Anglo-Saxon
and Germanic. We have already called this the
grand philosophic arch of the Eighteenth Century
bending over the whole Teutonic world from the
birthplace of John Locl^e in Western England to
the birthplace of Immanuel Kant in Eastern
Prussia. The extreme European limits of the
great migration of the Teutons are thus joined
together by the supreme Teutonic discipline,
Modern Philosophy. In such fashion the Eight
eenth fcentury rounds itself out even topograph
ically in an all-embracing act of consanguine
thought.

And here we may state that the connection
between Locke and Kant 'is far more direct and

494 MODERN- EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

complete than is usually supposed by the Ger
man expositors of Kant, who are remarkably
neglectful of this relation. They dwell upon the
influence of Hume over Kant, chiefly because Kant
himself has emphasized it; but first of all, what
is Hume without Locke? At present we may
point out one fundamental fact: Kant's demar
cation of the sphere of knowledge as lying
between the Ego-in-itself and the Thing-in-itself
is that of Locke, though, of course, the two
Philosophers differ as to the process of knowl
edge within these circumscribed limits. Putting
Locke and Kant together we may say that in the
Eighteenth Century Teutonia draws her boundary
lines both externally and internally, both in
space and in thought.

In Kant Philosophy makes another noticeable
transition : It goes to the University for its culti
vation, and even for its origination, in which
environment it will stay during the next Century
and attain its supreme modern development.
This is in striking contrast to what has preceded.
For the five greatest modern philosophers of the
antecedent time were not professors, and did their
original work outside of Universities ; some of
them declined professorships as unfavorable to
freedom of thought. The prescribed routine with
its ever-recurring formalism weighs down creative
thought; moreover, the first function of the
University professor is to impart and to transmit

KANT. — PHILOSOPHIC CHARACTER. 495

the culture of the past, in whose erudition he
always runs the danger of getting ossified. And
we can see that Kant, in his chief work, has be
come formal and schematic to excess, and finally
is overwhelmed and enslaved by his own system.
Very different is the philosophic manner of those
non-professorial philosophers, Locke and Hume.
Already we have found that England has com
pelled Philosophy, the most aristocratic and ex
clusive of Sciences, to drop the Latin and to talk
the vernacular. This trait Kant will inherit and
will make Philosophy speak German altogether.
Kant has no Latin works of importance. The
basic Teutonic discipline is now to speak the
mother-tongue, the pure Teutonic, not a Latin
ized Teutonic like English. Undoubtedly the
custom of using the vulgar tongue for philo
sophic discourse had been growing. But Kant,
through the greatness of his works and their

O O

widespread study, will establish German philo
sophic speech, even if his style be imperfect,
somewhat as Luther established the literary
tongue of Germany by his translation of the
Bible.

This we may take as an instance of his gen
eral breach with the traditions of the past. He
reflected the spirit of his century in his sympathy
with all sorts of Revolution. He defended
warmly the revolt of the American Colonies from
GreatBritain. When he heard of the formation

496 M ODEEN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 S OPHY.

of the French Republic, he is reported to have
said with tears in his eyes : " I can now say like
Simeon: Lord, let thy servant depart in peace,
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." He
seemed to be in an inner revolt against whatever
was established. He would have nothing to do
with the transmitted forms of religion ; it is said
that he never entered a church after reaching
manhood. Law and medicine as formulated and
practiced were the objects of his dislike. He
was his own doctor and elaborated a system of
hygiene upon which he loved to talk. When
we learn that Rousseau was his favorite French
author and that the Emile was the only book
that ever kept him from taking his customary
walk, we can understand how deeply he drank of
the spirit of the revolutionary Century.

Kant, like Locke, was a valetudinarian all his
life. He was born a weakling physically, a kind
of dwarf, being barely five feet in height, and
partially deformed ; he was never well yet never
seriously ill; to understand his body was his
first care, and he evidently learned his lesson
well. Heine and others have made fun of his
regularity, but this was the very condition not
only of his working but of his living at all.
He knew his physical limits, which knowledge
had been burned into his soul by suffering. He
had to watch every little transgression of his
hygienic conscience, otherwise the penalty was

KANT.— LIFE. 497

upon him for violating the categorical imperative
of his body. Astonishing was the result.
Though his life was one continued fight for life,
he nevertheless lived till he was quite eighty
years old, and did a very considerable amount of
work.

We cannot help thinking that these bodily con
ditions emphasized, even if they did not produce,
certain mental tendencies. The limits of his
physical being were so ground into him that they
left a corresponding impress upon the mind,
whose limits Kant has fixed with such remorse
less precision and force. We feel that in the
conditions which he draws around experience lies
a deep experience of his own, as we may also find
in the similar case of Locke.

Kant and his Philosophy have a profound con
nection with Frederick the Great and the rise
of the Prussian State on the Eastern side of the
Teutonic world. The rejuvenation of German
spirit finds expression in the new institution and
in the new philosophy. Other similar manifesta
tions in the literary sphere are seen in Lessing and
Goethe. Kant is, therefore, by no means an
isolated phenomenon. He is part of a great
European palingenesis, which at first shows itself
in the form of Revolution.

I. KANT'S LIFE. — Kant was born April 22d,
1724, at Konigsberg, Prussia, and died in the
same city February 12th, 1804. He supposed

32

498 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

himself to be of Scotch descent on his father's
side, but his accuracy on this point has recently
been questioned.

Every biographer points out a very significant
change in the spiritual development of our phi-
lospher which hovers about his fortieth year,
before and after. It was slow, not without re
actions and even relapses. In general, this was
Kant's break with the past, with the established,
the transmitted — his awakening from his "dog
matic slumber." He had been in philosophy
mainly a follower of Wolff, he had studied pro
foundly the physical doctrines of Newton, he had
appropriated the erudition of preceding times
after the manner of the University. What now
causes the separation ?

First of all, we are to look at what was going
on in the institutional world that environed Kant.
The Seven Years' War (1756-63) with the career
of Frederick the Great, could not help having
a strong influence on Kant who was a Prussian
subject. He saw the conflict near at hand,
Konigsberg was occupied by the Eussians for
several years during the war. As already said,
the right of legitimacy was substantially annulled
by the Prussian monarch who asserted another
and deeper right. The title to rule transmitted
from the past was assailed by a king and broken
down after a tremendous conflict in which 853,000
fighting men are said to have perished. Berlin, the

KANT. — LIFE.

Prussian capital, was captured by the enemy, and
still Frederick triumphed in the end. His was
the assertion of WILL above all the mazes which
the Intellect of the time sought to throw in his
way by means of old claims, established rights, in
herited titles. Well may one say that Frederick
the Great was the arch revolutionist of the Cen
tury, whose spirit he represented in its deep
est depths. The receptive Kant could not
help catching this spirit in his own way, and
becoming the philosophic counterpart of Fred
erick, who indeed may never have heard of him,
and who, moreover, tried to be his own phi
losopher after the French distillation of English
philosophy (Locke). To our mind the French
Revolution is an historic development and ful
fillment of the spirit underlying the Seven Years'
War, through both of which events Kant lived,
seeing the outcome of both in the Primacy of
Will of two great rulers, Frederick and Napoleon.
Still Kant was too old to represent philosophically
the concrete French Revolution, that belongs to
the generation of philosophers who succeeded
him.

The European Literature of the time, specially
in its French and English sources, profoundly
stirred our philosopher. We have already men
tioned Rousseau and Hume, both of them giving
a literary expression to the revolutionary spirit
of the age. So Kant far off to one side of Eu-

500 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

rope was the chosen man to give a philosophical
expression to this same spirit.

1. First Period. In the sixties of the Eight
eenth Century Kant was undergoing a change
from being a receptive vessel for the erudition of
the past into becoming a source of ideas in him
self ; he was getting possession of his own genius.
In the year 1763 the Seven Years' War closed,
and a time of peace and reflection set in. In
1770 he was elevated from a tutorship to a pro
fessorship in the University of Konigsberg. On
this occasion he wrote a dissertation bearing the
title, "Concerning the Form and Principles of
the Sensible and Intelligible World." He shows
that he has reached his philosophic standpoint
and has only to develop it to completeness.

We feel a hesitation about setting exact dates
in this matter of slow evolution. Still the need
of something fixed for the mental grip is great.
The reader will not be far out of the way if he
takes Kant's fortieth year (1764) as the land
mark of his great transition to his conscious task,
which continues to develop during his whole
middle life, till old age begins to show his decline.

2. Second Period. Kant is now fairly launched
on his philosophic career; he has passed from
the Macrocosm (Newton) to the Microcosm
(Rousseau), from the World to his Ego, whose
limits he is now to subject to his criticism, and
thus his philosophy is named the critical. It is

KANT.— LIFE. 501

manifest that the Lockian boundary of cognition
is still with him, but he is going to overhaul
what lies within that boundary. In such an
overhauling he starts from Hume's negation,
which on one side he accepts, but on another he
denies. He proposes to rescue Locke's experience
of the object, yet not after Locke's manner.

His Second Period would accordingly begin
about 1764, and last for some twenty-four years,
ending with the publication of the Critique of
the Practical Reason in 1788, after which Kant's
writings begin to show diminished power.

Of course the culmination, of this Second
Period as well as of Kant's life is the publication
of the Critique of Pure Reason in 1781, when
the author was 57 years old. This is the work
to which we shall have to pay special attention
as the central statement of Kant's philosophy as
well as the profoundest outcome of the thought
of his age.

3. Third Period. With this part of Kant's
life (from 1789 till his death in 1804) we can
have little to do in the present account, since the
philosopher has already in the preceding Period
accomplished his epoch-making task, which gives
him his supreme place in the intellectual devel
opment of the Eighteenth Century.

Of a single matter, however, mention should
be made. After the publication of his work on
Religion within the bounds of Pure Reason,

502 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

there reached him one day a cabinet order from
Berlin dated October 1st, 1794, which ran as
follows: " Oar highest person has been greatly
displeased to observe how you misuse your phi
losophy to undermine and destroy " the Christian
Religion. Then came the command that " in

o

the future you give no such cause of offence,"
and that you write hereafter in .due accord with -
"our paternal purpose," otherwise " you may
expect unpleasant consequences to yourself."
We must recollect that Frederick the Great, the
scoffer and priest-hater, had been dead several
years and the new king had introduced the
reign of so-called pietism.

Kant has attained just the age of the dying
Socrates, being seventy years old, and here is
the modern cup of hemlock offered him, not by
a democracy but by an absolute government.
Will he drink it? Not a bit of it. At first he
was full of fight, and thought of defending him
self against the charges which impugned his
Christianity ; then he would maintain the right
of the philosopher to think whafhe pleased and
to say what he thought ; but he ended by pro
claiming himself "his Majesty's most faithful
servant," and by promising " I shall refrain
in the future from all public lecturing and
writing on religion, both natural and revealed."

The incident leaves a painful, degrading im-

KANT. — WRITINGS. 503

pression of Kant. But apart from all motives
of fear, what else could he logically do, ac
cording to his own Philosophy? Here was the
Ego of the absolute Monarch issuing his uncon
ditional imperative to a subject. From the
Kantian standpoint there was no questioning the
right. Kant could only behold the gigantesque
image of his own doctrine smiting him to the
earth. Really he had no inner means of defend
ing himself. With this picture of the aged
Kant crouching under the blow of his own
principle returning upon him, we may close the
book of his life.

II. KANT'S WRITINGS. — These are quite
numerous and belong to all three Periods . In a
general way Kant writes during the First Period
after a literary fashion, he cultivates the graces
of style, and pays less attention to the formal
order. Herein |he follows his models, English
and French, Hume and Rousseau, who never
failed to put into their writings a literary quality,
which often dominates the purely philosophic
element.

But in the Second Period the style of Kant
changes, his exposition becomes more involved and
rigidly formulated. He passes from his literary
to his schematic manner and therewith from imi
tation into originality. For there is no denying
that his great original works are schematic, in

504 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

fact this is the standing literary objection to
them. But Kant is not Kant without his strictly
tabulated scheme, which, being an integral part
of his genius, cannot be left out in any complete
exposition of his doctrine. We are not to for
get that Kant never came to his true self by any
other road than through his scheme. It is true
that in his Third Period his adherence to his
scheme becomes painfully external, he forces his
content into it with a kind of violence. This,
however, is one indication of his decline, iii
which the Primacy of the Will over Intellect
gets to be purely arbitrary.

The monumental structure to which . all the
curlier Writings of Kant lead up and from which
all his later Writings recede, is built of the three
Critiques — of PureKeason, of Practical Eeason,
and of Judgment, and of these three there is one
supreme central edifice, the Critique of Pure Rea
son. And of this one work there is a central
portion with many outlying divisions. The
century since Kant has very decidedly selected
the kernel of his greatest book, which is
indeed the kernel of all his writings and of his
life, and has in many ways appropriated and de
veloped it. In our exposition we shall in the
main confine ourselves to this kernel as the truly
original creative element of Kant.

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON. 505

A. THE CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON.

In accord with our method of treating the
philosophers of the Eighteenth Century, we
select the greatest work of Kant for analysis and
interpretation. It would be a violent treatment
to force the book into the philosophic Norm
which it is seeking to destroy, even if it has to
recognize this Norm in the act of destruction.
Undoubtedly Kant himself deemed the present
work as a preparatory training (propaedeutic)
for his new system of Philosophy, but in this
case the vestibule becomes emphatically the
temple. The student of Kant is, therefore, to
grapple with the Critique of Pare Reason first
of all, and from it pass in thought to that which
comes after and also to that which goes before.
For the whole is a growth ; Kant must be con
ceived as gradually growing into it and producing
it, when the work itself becomes the source of
new growths not only for Kant himself, but for
all future Philosophy. It is thus one of the
great germinal centers in which the Thought of
the Ages gathers itself together and formulates
itself anew, thence spreading forth throughout
the world.

The actual name of the book, Critique of
Pure Reason, is said to be first mentioned in a
letter of Kant's to Herz dated Feb. 21st, 1772.

506 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

But indications of it under other titles and
descriptions appear before this date. There is
no doubt that Kant was working upon it chiefly
during the greater part of his Second Period.
In a letter to Mendelssohn he says that it was " the
product of twelve years' reflection at least"
(being published in 1781), but that it was " put
into shape in about four or five months," which
can only mean that large portions were already
written, and were inserted into the Whole, of
course after revision and elaboration. It grew
in parts and from several independent centers till
boundaries came together, or in repeated in
stances were brought together by a kind of
external force. Still the sutures may be traced
where the parts are intergrown, and gaps may be
observed which the author was unable to fill.
Hence come the repetitions as well as omissions,
the decided independence of its leading divisions,
the inner separation in the outer unity.

For these reasons the book has been subjected
to a dissecting process very similar to what has
happened to another great constructive work of
this same period, Goethe's Faust, which was like
wise the growth of many years of the poet's life.
As the literary critic has separated the poem into
a series of layers in chronological order, so the
philosophical critic has separated this Critique
into successive sections, arranged according to
their origin in time. Indeed old Homer himself

KANT.— CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON. 507

has (in his two poems) been cut up into strata
by the Germans. Now the curious fact comes
to light that the source of all this dissection and
stratification applied to literature by the German
mind goes back chiefly to the Critique of Pure
Reason, which is thus having its own doctrine
served up to itself. The Prolegomena of Wolf,
the fountain of the whole Homeric controversy,
has its thought in Kant's book, though of course
this critical separative spirit lay in the age, in the
entire Eighteenth Century. It is, therefore, not
surprising to hear that attempts have been made
in Germany to trace the chronological order of
the individual sections of the work, as they arose
in the mind of the author. Such an effort
springs out of the evolutionary spirit pervading
the Nineteenth Century.

Kant also says in the letter above cited that
his chief attention was given to the subject-mat
ter, while " little care was bestowed upon the style,
or upon making it easy for the reader." Well
may he make some apology for the composition of
the book, which is not good. It has often the
long involved sentences, so much complained of
in German writing; he is careless of grammar,
especially of his pronouns, and his exposition
is not seldom disorderly. His style has little or
no relief from a certain rigid procedure, a sort
of metallic hardness is felt in it, which must have
belonged to Kant's character, and which sug-

508 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

gests his imperious unbending disposition. The
categorical imperative we can feel in his very
phrasing, and the postulate of his Ego as Will
sounds out of every sentence. When we read
these Critiques we seem to hear the stern,
almost rude word of individual authority which
brooks no questioning of its judgments. This
Kantian style is peculiarly German, being found
with varying degrees of intensity in many literary
and historical productions of Germany, and
comes, in part at least, from the deep study and
appropriation of Kant's work by the German
mind.

The title is suggestive. The word Critique
is derived from a Greek verb with two mean
ings: to separate and to judge, or to dis
tinguish and to subsume. Both these meanings
seem to be interlinked in Kant's usage. There
is the primal separation from the sense-world
which calls forth the world of Ideas, and with
this latter world (as that of Pure Reason) the
Critique specially deals, analyzing it and making
in it many distinctions. But all this demands
continuously the act of judging, and Kant is the
judge. It is he (or his Ego) who furnishes
the criterion or law, who makes the analysis,
and who finally renders the decision. This
judicial process is called the Critique of Pure
Reason; that is, Pure Reason as a sort of cul
prit, at least as one making many claims not

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON. 509

valid, is called to the bar of the judge, Kant
himself and none other, who examines these
claims and sets many of them aside as fraudulent
but establishes others. Now the fundamental
claim of Pure Reason is that it can knowt the
object as it is, or the thing-iruitself ; this claim,
however, though propounded and asserted since
the beginning of Philosophy, Judge Kant throws
out of court with no little emphasis. Such is
the primal act of criticism, an act in every way
famous and full of significance for the future.
Substantially it negatives the question which
started Philosophy into existence in the old
Greek world, which question is : What is the
essence of Being? It can't be known, answers
Kant (with a punning negative echo in English,
which may also be heard in German).

It should not be forgotten that this Pure Rea
son which Kant calls to the judgment seat is
really his own, is himself. «/ Kant summons him
self as claiming to know the world of reality,
before himself, and then in his own presence-
chamber arbitrates and decides this claim of his
in the negative. In such procedure we see two
opposite characteristics which reveal the deeply
dualistic nature of Kant : on the one hand a pro
digious act of self-assertion, and on the other a
prodigious act of self-denial. He makes the claim
of being the absolute judge in his own case and
then decides his own case against himself.

5 10 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

After making himself the arbiter of knowing
the objective world, he then affirms that he
cannot know it. Though he denies his own
Intellect, he asserts his own Will. To such an
inner self -opposition has the philosopher attained,
and with him all philosophy, whose dualism he
reflects in its latest and most intense phase.

Scheme. Throughout the Critique of Pure
Reason we find a scheme or plan according to
which it is constructed. Evidently Kant deemed
this Scheme of great importance, since it is em
ployed with little variation in the other two Crit
iques, and may be traced in different writings of
his, especially those which are later. It is a just
surmise that he gradually unfolded into a con
sciousness of his Scheme, as he progressed with
the present work. One often thinks that his
Scheme came last as the framework for holding
his various essays and treatises together and con
joining them into a book. To be sure Kant de
rived the Scheme largely from the Logic which he
lectured upon at the University, so that it may be
deemed the logical skeleton upon which he hangs
his thoughts.

To get a clear notion of this Scheme, at least
in outline, is the first step in a serious study of
Kant. The fundamental division of the Critique
of Pure Reason is into two parts: Transcend
ental Doctrine of Elements and Transcendental
Doctrine of Method, both of which divisions are

KAN T. — CEITIQ UE OF P UEE REASON. 5 1 1

taken from the traditional Formal Logic used by
Kant. But the second division is inclined to fall
away ; it is by no means as important as the first,
which occupies more than five times as many
pages. All the great problems introduced by
Kant into Philosophy are discussed in the first
division.

Kant is the most German, the most Gothic of
all philosophers. The infinite division of the
Schematism of this Critique is like the Gothic
Cathedral ; its divisions often seem to lose them
selves in infinite details, yet with a certain sym
metrical proportion, even if sometimes a part
breaks loose and reveals its capricious independ
ence. This Schematism is an integral part of
the study of Kant ; it belongs to German Black-
Letter Teutonic, not to the clean-cut English
Latinized Teutonic, such as we see in Locke and
Hume. Such a Scheme seems to belong to the
German Spirit.

In the tabular statement we have by no means
given all the manifold divisions and sub-divisions
of the Kantian edifice. We have omitted a good
deal, and have abbreviated other minor parts.
Still the reader can see at a glance how minutely
organized the Scheme is, and can feel the Gothi-
cism of its structure, which is an element not to
be left out of its consideration.

512 MODERN E UBOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

A TRANSCENDENTAL DOCTRINE OF ELEMENTS*
FIRST PART. — Transcendental Aesthetic^
I. Space.
II. Time.

SECOND PART. —Transcendental Logic.

FIRST DIVISION. — Transcendental Analytic.
First Book — Analytic of Concepts,
I. Clue to discovery of Concepts.

1. Logical use of Understanding.

2. Logical Function of Understanding.

3. Categories.

II. Deduction of Pure Concepts,

1. Principles.

2. Transcendental Deduction
Second Book — Analytic of Principles

I. Schematism of Concepts.
II. System of all principles of the Understanding,

1. Highest principle of analytic judgments.

2. Highest principle of synthetic judgments.

3. Systematic representation; etc.

(1) Axioms of Intuition.

(2) Anticipations of Perception.

(3) Analogies of Experience.

A. Principle of Persistence of

substance,

B. Time-Succession according to

Law of Causality.

C. Principle of Co-existence^ etc.

(4) Postulates of empirical thought,
III. Ground for distinguishing Phenomena and

Noumena.

KANT. — CRITIQ UE OF P URE R EASON. 5 1 3

SECOND DIVISION — Transcendental Dialectic.
First Book — Of the Ideas of Pure Reason.

I, Of Ideas in general.
II, Of transcendental Ideas.
III. System of transcendental Ideas.
Second Book — Dialectical Conclusions of Pure

Reason.

I. Paralogisms of Pure Reason.
II. Antinomies of Pure Reason.

1. System of cosmological Ideas.

2. Conflict of Pure Reason.

(1) First Antinomies.

(2) Second Antinomies.

(3) Third Antinomies.

(4) Fourth Antinomies.

3. Interest of Reason in the Conflict.

Ten other divisions.
III. The Ideal of Pure Reason.

1. Of the Ideal in general.

2. Of the Transcendental Ideal.

3. Of Arguments for proving God.

4. Impossibility of Ontological Proof.

5. Impossibility of Cosmological Proof.

6. Impossibility of Physico-Theological

proof.

7. Critique of all Theology.

B. TRANSCENDENTAL DOCTRINE OF METHOD.
Four main divisions with numerous sub-divisions.
33

514 MODE EN E UR OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

The first reflection to be made upon the preced
ing Scheme is its fundamental classification by
twos. Its main divisions run into dyads, and
show most strikingly in an external form the
dualistic character of Kant's philosophizing.
Even if he obtained most of these divisions from
an outside source, he certainly adopted them and
increased them. The bare inspection of the
foregoing table gives us a glimpse into the inner
most workings of Kant's mind, and reveals its
inherently separative character. Still we may
observe reactions in which the total Ego of the
philosopher asserts itself more or less instinct
ively, and not simply its separative stage. For
in spite of and underneath all these dyads runs
quite unconsciously a threefold division which is
fundamental, and which is the real process of
the book. This is the division into Aesthetic,
Analytic, and Dialectic. Whoever deals with the
book in its essential movement has in mind these
three elements of it, either singly or in a process
together. Eve*ry citation or discussion going to
the heart of the theme will be found to involve
one or all of these three divisions. An exami
nation will show that Kant himself, when in the
full and free swing of his spirit, throws overboard
his formal dyadal distinctions, and becomes un
consciously triadal in the procedure of his
Critique of Pure Reason. In like manner his
best critics, striking home to the basic thought

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PUEE SEASON. 515

of the work, circle about the Aesthetic, the Ana
lytic, and the Dialectic in their exposition of
the Kantian doctrine. This fact the reader
should know at the start, as it may save him
from much wandering and possibly from losing
himself in the mazes of Kant's complicated
Scheme, which of itself is so deeply separative.

It may be here observed that Kant became
aware, or at least more fully aware of this
deeply separative tendency in himself and
sought to correct it in some of his later writ
ings. To our mind his third Critique, that of
Judgment, is such a correction. For the primal
inner movement of Kant's thought is seen in his
two Critiques, of Pure Reason and of Practical
Reason, or of Intellect and Will, which divide
the Ego into two wholly antithetic activities, and
which move in just opposite directions. It was a
later idea that there must be a mediating third
placed with or between these two, that the mind,
to be complete, must also have Feeling as well as
Intellect and Will. Still Kant re mains essentially
a judge, not an arbitrator (as he is sometimes
called) or mediator.

Another thought arises in the present con
nection: the preceding Scheme is not organic,
does not grow out of the subject-matter, but is
largely though not wholly foisted upon it from
the outside, thro ugh metaphysical categories taken
from Formal Logic. This fact can be historically

518 M ODEEN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

verified by an inspection of Kant's Logic, edited
by one of his pupils (Jasche) from notes to a
book on Logic, during the author's lifetime.
Here we find it that Logic is "a science of
reason, not according to matter but according to
form; " that is, the content of Reason must be
subjected to the logical form. Moreover Logic
is «« a science, a-priori, of the necessary laws of
thought," and shows "the right use of the
Eeason and of the Understanding." Still further
it is " divided into Analytic and Dialectic," of
which the former " reveals through separation all
the activities of Reason," while the latter "is
the Logic of Appearance which springs from
a misuse of the Analytic" by producing "a
merely false show of true knowledge." Other
leading categories and divisions found in the
Critique of Pure Reason we come upon in this
book on Logic. It furnishes essentially the
Scheme of the Critique apart from its content.
Thus we mark a decided separation between Form
and Matter, the first being superposed upon the
second.

This fact has been recognized and often re
gretted by commentators on Kant. Still we
cannot help thinking that it belongs naturally
to the man's work, that it is a phase of the
Kantian dualism. Indeed these abstract cate
gories dominating the free activity of the Ego
make the procedure in all Philosophy. So the

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON. 517

foregoing logical forms rule more or less ex
ternally all three of Kant's Critiques, which in
themselves have a psychical origin.

We may, therefore, say that Kant's Schema
tism is not altogether happy, is not perfect.
The result is that some writers cry out against
any Scheme whatever. This is a mistake in just
the opposite direction. The Scheme may be in
adequate, let it be improved, but not thrown
away. It is subject to evolution, like everything
else. In fact it cannot be dispensed with,
especially in any systematic thinking. It may
be imperfect, still there is a movement toward
the perfect Scheme, as there is toward the per
fect man or toward the highest good, and toward
the supreme thought. The Kantian Scheme has
its own sins, but also its own merits; its chief
merit is that it orders, even if externally and
autocratically, a great complex, refractory book,
whose recalcitrant materials have a tendency, if
left to themselves, to pitch into chaos. More
over every philosophic Scheme is absolutistic and
Kant is a philosopher in ax very decided sense,
having as his deepest principle the categorical
imperative, which makes him in his sphere an
imperator. So his logical Scheme projected by
himself into a dominating order is imperious and
imperial (kaisertich) and so national, he being
the philosophus teutonicus of his time as truly
as was old Jacob Boehme.

518 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

So Kant, in his hostility to the transmitted Phi
losophy, throws overboard its Norm, and makes
one of its own, which is the preceding Scheme.
Something similar we have already seen in the
other philosophers of the Eighteenth Century;
each asserts his philosophic freedom by making
his own Norm, which thus becomes an individual
Scheme, and is no longer the universal Norm of
Philosophy. Herein too we see Thought turning
against itself and assailing its own transmitted
order, in the true revolutionary spirit. It is,
therefore, a significant fact that Kant dethrones
the Norm and sets up the -Scheme as the govern
ing principle of his all thinking.

We must, however, not fail to appreciate the
positive, and not merely the negative, signifi
cance of such an act in the greatest philosopher
of the Century. The old Norm with its corre
sponding Discipline is indeed coming to an end,
its own followers (the philosophers) are destroy
ing it. The new Norm with its corresponding
new Discipline (Psychology) is in the process of
being born, and is the real cause of all these
painful throes convulsing the ancient formulas
of venerable Philosophy. This psychological
infant, as yet unborn but lustily struggling to
come to light, is the secret demonic energy,
which is all unconsciously driving Kant forward
to his supremely negative deed, undoing Philoso-

KANT. — TRANSCENDEN TAL AES THE TIC. 5 1 9

phy with its Norm, but with the same blow
undoing himself, for he is still the philosopher.

Our exposition will, therefore, have to abandon
the Kantian Scheme and proceed on the lines
which time has shown to underlie its movement.
As already indicated, the three fundamental and
internally connected divisions of the Critique
of Pure Keason are: (I.) The Transcendental
Aesthetic, (II.) The Transcendental Analytic,
(III.) The Transcendental Dialectic. These
three themes we shall discuss in order, not neg
lecting to cast often a glance back at the
Scheme of which Kant deemed them integral
portions.

I. TRANSCENDENTAL AESTHETIC. — It is called
Aesthetic, because it pertains to knowledge
through the senses. It is transcendental, be
cause it pertains to principles given a-priori (not
through the Senses but from the Ego directly).
These are the non-empirical (transcendental)
principles of empiricism (sensism). Hence
Kant's definition: " I call Transcendental Aes
thetic a science of all a-priori principles of sen
sism (Sinnlichkeit)." Or we may call it a
science of the ideal elements of reality, that is a
science of the supersensible Forms through
which we know the sensible world. Thus the
old Platonic dualism of two worlds emerges
again, though in a new shape and with a. new
problem, (mundus intelligibilis et se-nsibilis) .

520 MODERN E UB OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

The question is, How can I, with the one world
in me, know the other world outside of me?

It is evident that the first thing to be looked
into is the nature of that " world outside of
me," in general the object (G-egenstand). Ac
cordingly this is what Kant grapples with at the
start, in his very first sentence pertaining to the
present topic. When we are impressed or
affected by the object, this affection of our
t/Ego (Gemiith) is called a Sensation. On the
other hand the object as affected or changed by
our Ego in sensation is an Appearance or Phe-
v nomenon (Erscheinung}. Here again we have
two opposing but interrelated terms, which will
often be used in the course of the discussion.

At once there begins to spin around this
phenomenon a number of new difficulties, which
can only be allayed by new divisions and defi
nitions. Is the object as phenomenon a mere
appearance without objective validity? Again
and again this question comes up to bother Kant
and his reader; the latter it has not ceased to
bother to this day . At present it need only be
said that Kant does not deny reality to his
phenomenon, yet he is* not able to assure this
reality; he affirms it indeed, but cannot confirm
his affirmation.

Still further, at this point begins another
and even more virulent dualism : the phe
nomenon splits wide open, and becomes

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AESTHE TIC. 52 1

twofold; on the one side as related to
the Ego, it is the phenomenal thing; on
the other side as beyond the Ego, it is the
Thing-in-itself , which cannot be known or
exeji^sensed . This is the most galling contradic
tion probably in the whole Critique, causing the
reader to hesitate and halt and hobble over the
rough pathway, with mind bouncing from this
side to that in a state of never ending dubitation.
For it is just_thisjunknownThing-in-iteelf which
sets jdiejrmx3hiner^ t o moving, first stimulating
the Ego to sensation and then to_jtbe construc-
tiou of the entire vast .superstructure of Pure
Reason, the whole being erected ostensibly in
order to know this unknown _Thmg-in-itsclf .
And thxToutcoine is seemingly a drawn battle, if
not defeat. Still very wonderful results are
dropped by the way in the course of this re-
sultless expedition.

Coming back from these more remote outlooks
pertaining to the Phenomenon, we may next
glance at another distinction concerning it which
is of irninej/fate use. Says Kant: " In the
Phenomenon I call that which corresponds to sen
sation the Matter thereof, while that jliich
renders the multiplicity of the Phenomenon
capable of being ordered I call the For4n."
Hence comes the important distinction that the
Matter of the Phenomenon in sensation '* is
given a posteriori," that is empirically, while

522 MODERN EUEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

"the Form of the Phenomenon in sensation
must lie ready in the Ego (Gemvth) a-priori."
Thus in__the Phenomenon or sensed object the
Ego determines the Form out of itself, hnfrJa
4etermmed by the Matter out of the object.
'This is the source of... tke^priQri or ideal Forms
of sensation or sense-perceptual which soon
come into play.

Such is the general purport of the introduction
to the Transcendental Aesthetic which deals spe
cially with these a-priori Forms of the Phenomenon
in sensation. These he calls for the most part
Pure Forms of Intuition (Anschauung) or Sense-
perception, and declares that there are two and
only two, Space and Time. He gives an exposi
tion of both according to the Scheme on a pre
vious page, which we shall here follow.

1. Space. This is the first theme of the
Transcendental Aesthetic and the first fact of
the sensible world. Says Kant: " By means of
the external sense (a property of our Ego,
Gemuth) we bring before ourselves objects
which are outside of us, these being all in Space
and having a certain form, size and relation to
one another." Such is the first appeal to
experience in which we notice that an external
(or spatial) sense is assumed by the author,
which has its counterpart in the internal sense,
whereby we represent to ourselves Time. Thus
the Ego is endowed for its present work with

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AESTHETIC. 523

two senses, a Space-sense (external) and a Time-
sense (internal) each of which has a central part
to perform, though Kant introduces them simply
by the way.

Externally we cannot perceive Space as such,
yet we perceive things in Space. Hence rise
the questions, What is it and how do we get it?
Is it an actual object out yonder in the world, or
is it some relation between objects? Kant's
answer is, Space is not an .object, not a percept,
but a Form of perceiving existent in the mind,
henceji_Fo£m_Jde^

Ego and inrposed upon the object. I cannot
sense the object except by means o^f the Inner
Space-Form of my Ego, which co-operates with
nj^external sensation in making the object ap-
pear to me, thus prod_ucing^_the_J>henoiuenon
already mentioned. To show the existence of
this Space-Form of Sense-perception Kant gives
two kinds of exposition which he calls metaphys
ical and transcendental.

(a) The exposition is metaphysical when it
deals with those points which show the concept
of Space as given a-priori. (1) When I refer
my sensation to an object outside of me, and in a
different place from that in which I am, I must
have the Idea of Space beforehand, in order to
perceive and bring together these two separate
places. (2) It is impossible for me to conceive
Space not to be, though I can conceive spatial

524 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

objects not to be, that is, a pure or empty space.
Hence the Idea of Space does not spring from or
depend upon sensible objects, but these depend
upon it. (3) Space is a pure Sense-perception
(or Intuition) given as a-priori, one and horno-
geneous, conceived as infinite in^niagnitude , since
no spatial limit is valid against Space itself.

(6) Kant calls his exposition transcendental
when from this science (or cognition) of Space
as a subjective Form of Sense-perception, uni
versal and necessary, are derived other sciences
(or cognitions) of Space universal and neces
sary, that is, not empirical. Herein an ex
ample is Geometry as the Science of the
Pure Forms of Space, derived a-priori, pro
jected by the Ego out of itself, and made by it
into a Science which controls the entire material
realm. T hus the Ego by means of its pure Ideas
of Sense-perception pre-constructs a Form-world
which determines the Sense-world, and is not
determined by it, or empirically. This a-priori
Form-world determining all matter is Mathemat
ics, and can only originate in a subject (or Ego)
possessing in its own right the pure Form of ex
ternal Sensation which is stimulated to activity
by the object.

With this thought of Mathematics rises an
other and much more comprehensive thought: If
there is one limited science in which the ideal
Forms of Space show themselves valid in the

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AESTHE TIG. 525

realm of reality, may there not be a far wider
science in which other or all transcendental Ideas
canbe shown as having objective validity? In other
words, is a Transcendental Metaphysics possible?
In fact this Critique of Pure Reason is the pro
paedeutic or preliminary investigation for such
a science, which would embrace all necessary and
universal truths. Though Kant busied himself
a great deal about such a work, he never wrote it,
indeed could not write from his subjective point
of view.

II. Time. Corresponding to the external
sense, by means of which we get Space, is the
internal Sense " byrneans of which the Ego
(Gemii(h) beholds itselT^Fjts_jmier corulition,
but which gives no perception of the soul itself
as an object. Still it is a determinate Form
under which the perception of the inner condi
tion of the soul is alone possible so that every
thing which belongs to our inner activities, is
represented in the relations of Time." TiiueJs
not, therefore, a sensed object, is not something
which can be__sPan, bpjng in this respect like
S£ac£. Thus Kant endows the Ego with a
Time-sense which is its power of self-beholding
or self -consciousness, whereby we get the idea of
succession pure and simple, or Time. Of this
there are also two kinds of exposition, meta
physical and transcendental.

(a) The metaphysical exposition of Time sets

526 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

forth the arguments for the a-priori character of
Time: (1) You cannot represent things exist
ing at the same time (cotemporaneously) or at
different times (successively), without the pre-
existent idea of time, which is not, accordingly,
an empirical concept derived from temporal
experiences. (2) You cannot obliterate Time
itself, though you can obliterate (mentally)
things and events in Time. This shows it to be
a necessary Form of the Ego in all perception, a
universal condition of the possibility of Phe
nomena. (3) Upon this necessity are founded
the axioms of Time as universal and necessary,
for example that different times must be succes
sive. (4) Time is no general concept (of the
Understanding), but a pure Form of Sense-per
ception. (5) The infinity of Time means that
Time is at once beyond any limit put upon it.
Thus there is the one Time, the condition under
lying all times.

(b) The transcendental exposition of Time
ought to show the science or sciences which spring
from the a-priori conception of Time. But here
Kant gives no exposition at all, he can only refer
us back to a part of the metaphysical exposition,
with a vague allusion to the concepts of change
and motion, " which are possible only through
the idea of Time." There is no doubt that
Kant's Scheme at this point shows a big hole.
Possibly we might expect the science of Number

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AESTHETIC. 527

(Arithmetic) as correlative to the science of
Form (Geometry) to be given in this connection,
but it does not appear.

So much for the Transcendental Aesthetic,
which is one of the most prominent and original
portions of the Kantian Philosophy. The doctrine
that Space and Time are not objective, but are
pure Forms of the percipient Ego, was a very
striking and novel view, which soon took hold of
the age already predisposed to subjectivity. As
this portion occurs early in the Critique, being
really its first note, the reader became curious to
explore further in the difficult book whose good
fortune was to give forth its most peculiar and
stunning idea at the start . To be sure it main
tained its originality in other portions which fol
lowed, though this first portion has continued to
be the favorite with many readers.

We must, however, understand that Kant does
not deny the empirical reality of Time as belong
ing to the object. In our experience which is
sensuous, there can be no object which is not in
Time. In_re^aroVto the Phenomenon Time has
objective validity but^notjnjtself , as absolute ,
as_abatracted fromJLheJ?henomeDoii. The object
in Time is, therefore, very different from Time
itself, which belongs to the Ego perceiving the
object, which has, accordingly, no sensuous
reality jbuthiKant's phrase, possesses transcen-
Through its own Forms of Sen-

528 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

sation, Space and Time, the Ego can sense its own
other, its opposite, which is the material object.
Observations on the Transcendental Aesthetic . —
An inspection of Kant's discussion shows that
his appeal is almost entirely to the Ego and its
processes. It is really the fundamental pre
supposition or postulate to which every deduc
tion goes back ultimately. If we look closely at
the so-called metaphysical exposition of Space
and Time, we shall find it to be essentially intro
spective, while the transcendental exposition
seeks to derive mathematical science through
such introspection. In general, the terms are
not happy, for is not transcendental also meta
physical? According to Kant himself this
whole book of transcendental principles is only
a part of a total science of Metaphysics. We
should call both these discussions psychological,
as being really spun out of the process of the
Ego.

Another pre-supposition which Kant intro
duces from the outside is the two senses, exter
nal and internal, or the Space-sense and the
Time-sense. These are not a mentioned portion
of Kant's Scheme, still they have a very impor
tant part in his discussion, so important that
they ought to take an organic place in the expo
sition. They are special activities of the Ego,
which we have already seen to be the center
from which everything rays out. Kant intro-

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AE8 THE TIC. 529

duces it somewhat covertly by calling it " we,"
"the mind," etc.; especially the word Gemilth
whose counterpart is hard to find in English, he
uses for Ego, as we have tried to bring out in
several preceding passages. So we have in this
Transcendental Aesthetic to dig out and hold up
the Ego as the implicit source of two explicit
senses, the external and internal.

Herewith we begin to find a new process or
rather series of processes underlying Kant's pro
cedure. His Scheme is openly dyadal, but it is
not complete till it is supplemented by another
phase (which he gives indirectly), whereby it be
comes triadal. Thus, however, the Scheme is
psychological, following the movement of the
Ego. It is true that Kant would consciously
reject such a Scheme, as he holds that the Ego
in itself or as object cannot be known, being like
the Thing-in-itself. Still he unconsciously im
plies its process. all the while ; indeed the internal
eense, by which the idea of Time is obtained, is
that activity " through which the Ego ( G-emiith)
or mind views itself or its inner States," that is,
possesses self -consciousness. Still, after making
this declaration, he begins to suspect its conse
quences, and makes haste to add, that this in
ternal sense "can give no view of the soul (Ego)
as object," as if the soul or Ego were not by
its very nature self-viewing, self-conscious.
Herein Kant shows himself still the philosopher,

530 M ODE UN E UR OPE AN PHIL OSOPE Y.

unable to conceive the soul as pure self -activity
without a metaphysical substrate. Yet what can
be plainer than that the Ego called Kant is look
ing at itself and determining itself through itself
without any such substrate? In the Ego as in
ternal unknown Thing-in-itself the contradiction
is far louder and more insistent than in the
object as external unknown Thing-in-itself, since
the Ego in the former case has to see itself and
to tell about itself, and still remain unknown to
itself in all this knowing of itself.

It is not our purpose to elaborate these pre
suppositions and implications of Kant's treat
ment ; still we shall briefly note the three pro
cesses, which seem to underlie it, and which now
and then rise to the surface of it in fragmentary
statements .

1. The immediate process, which shows the
elements implied in order to make a start:
(a) the Ego as sensory or potential sensation, the
possibility of it as special sensation; (b) the
external object as opposite of the Ego, as Thing-
in-itself; (c) the Percept or the Phenomenon,
which appears to the Ego, being generated by
the external object stimulating the Ego to
activity, which is sensation.

2. The separative process, which shows the
Ego externalizing itself and becoming spatial :
(a) the external sensation as the Ego's activity
determined by the object ; (6) The object appears

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL AES THE TIC. 53 1

to the Ego as extended or in extension (Space),
hence as real, empirical, a-posteriori ; (c) This
extension is separated from the sensed object,
and regarded alone by itself, as it is in itself,
hence is ideal, subjective, a-priori. Thus it is
pure Space, not something in Space, but the
Ego's pre-existing Form of external sensation,
by which it sensed the object.

3. The self -returning process which shows the
Ego internalizing itself and thus becoming in
itself successive or temporal: (a) the internal
sensation as the Ego's activity determined by
the object to determine itself or " to see itself
and its states; " (6) The object appears to the
Ego as in succession or in a line of changing con
ditions (in Time) which are real, empirical,
a-posteriori; (c) This succession is separated
from the sensed object, and regarded alone by
itself, as it is in itself, hence is ideal, subjective,
a-priori. This is pure Time, not something in
Time, but the Ego's pre-existent Form of in
ternal sensation by which it sensed the object
changing or in motion.

Such is the threefold (or indeed thrice three
fold) psychical process which we find in Kant's
discussion of Space and Time, if we bring to light
and order all its pro-suppositions.

But in Kant's view Space and Time arejtwp
primordial generalise nses found a-priori in tjic
mind, and mediating the external worldjvjUjJiie

532 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

particular senses. The Ego has to look through
its own Space lind Time before it can see any'
spatial or temporal object. Still there remains
the mysterious object starting this movement, or
the cause of it all, which cause Kant takes for
granted as a power or property of the unknown-
able object. Thus in spite of all denials causa
tion is at work from the beginning, is indeed
just the beginning which renders any sensation
of the object possible.

The mediational power of Space and Time,
which was Kant's main object, does not mediate
therefore, does not bridge the chasm between the
external world and Ego, which Hume's skepticism
rent in twain and declared to be impassible.
Locke held that the knowledge of the object by
the Ego was immediate; but Hume easily showed
this to be impossible, which fact drives Kant to
make such knowledge mediated, primarily through
Space and Time. These three points of view,
connected together as stages of one process, con
stitute the main philosophical movement of the
Eighteenth Century.

By making Space and Time subjective, Kant
rescues the a-priori nature of pure Mathematics,
^wnichy therefore are not derived from experience.
But these mathematical forms control the natural
world; so the old question comes up, though in
inverse order. For we now must ask : How can
these pure forms of subjective knowledge reach-

KANT. -, TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YTIC. 533

in orrter to flptp.rynjp^. if? The only
answer which Kant is able to give is : they do- so,
try it and see. Here we can observe why Kant-
deems the ultimate fact of his Ego to be will,
pure, absolute will, which solves the difficulties
which knowledge or intellect throws across our
path. But Kant is not yet done with his criti
cism of intellect, and so we pass to the next grand
division of his Critique.

II. TRANSCENDENTAL ANALYTIC. — If we look
at Kant's Scheme we observe that the Transcen
dental Analytic is the first division of the Tran
scendental Logic. But it conduces to clearness of
exposition, and we follow Kant's inner movement
of thought better, if we regard the present division
as on a line with the preceding Transcendental
Aesthetic, and the succeeding Transcendental
Dialectic. Thus it is properly the second stage
of the grand transcendental process — Aesthetic,
Analytic, and Dialectic — which is the very soul
of this whole work, The Critique of Pure Reason.
Note again that these three divisions or stages
belong together in one process even in Kant's
underlying conception though he in our judgment
forces them asunder into artificial and alien parts
of his Scheme.

Also a new activity of the Mind is now intro
duced and specially emphasized, the Understand
ing ( Verstand) with its Concepts on the one
hand and its Categories on the other. This is

534 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the secpnd_ great faculty employed by Kant, on a

line, with Sease^perception ( Anschauung) below

and with Keason ( Vernunft) above. T,he Under^

( staDiling throughjtsJIkmjQepts -elaborates the P§r-

\'; ceptsof Sense-pero^ptiott mto th^-Gategories7]the

great implements of_jntelligence. The act of

categorizing the world in order that it may be

known is the work of the Understanding.

The chief object then of ..tlie_TDinscendental
Analtic is to categorize the world in order that

beTnown.

For this purpose there must be the existent
categories (1) which Kant will put into a table
or ordered Scheme; (2) the object or phenom
enon must be given as that which is to be duly cate
gorized and so known; (3) the mediating princi
ple must be found between these two sides — the
categories of the Understanding and the sensuous
object — which principle with Kant is Time.

1. The Table of Categories. From the be
ginning Philosophy has expressed itself in ab
stract Categories, that is, words or terms which
utter in speech its principle. To this fact Aris
totle specially called attention, and gave a list of
the fundamental Categories of his Logic. But
if we look into his Metaphysics we find that it can
be reduced to a discussion of philosophical Cate
gories, of which also he gives a list, some thirty
in number (Met. Book IV.). The Categories
may be deemed the counters which human Intel-

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YTIC. 535

ligence makes for imparting, exchanging, and
transmitting Thought. They are the circulating
medium of Mind between man and man, and
also from age to age. We still use some of
Plato's and Aristotle's mental coinage in the form
of Categories.

Now this fact attracted the attention of Kant
as a philosopher. He proposed to give a new
listjQL-the basic Categories wHicH man employ s
in,, )iis thinking. Moreover this list must be an
ordered list after the fashion of a scheme or table.

(1) The starting-point is the act of judgment,
that is, of subsuming a subject under a predi
cate. Says Kant: " The Understanding can in
general be represented as the faculty of judg
ing." The next question: What are the funda
mental judgments? Kant finds (finden wir]
twelve; four " titles " have each " three move
ments;" that is, the four subjects, Quantity,
Quality, Belation, Modality, have each three
predicates, making the twelve fundamental judg
ments. These are what Kant finds ready-made
for him in Formal Logic.

( 2) The next step is to transform these twelve
Predicates into twelve Categories — three under
each of the four titles. It is essentially the
same act of mind which we saw in judgment.
" The same function which unifies in one judg
ment its different constituents also unifies in
one percept its different constituents," and thus

536 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

forms the Categories. " This unity of the
manifold in Sense-perception introduces a tran
scendental content" which comes from the
Understanding and which is applied to objects.
The explicit act of subsumption in a judg
ment, is implicit in a Category, subsuming in
one word the various elements of a Sense-
perception. Thus we come to know the object,
in so far as it can be known. The stamp
of unity upon the multiplicity of sensations is
derived from the Understanding, and is tran
scendental, in Kantian phrase.

(3) The final step is to give the number and
order of the Categories. By the same necessity
which produces just twelve judgments (taken
for granted by Kant from Formal Logic), there
must be just twelve Categories under the four
given titles: Quantity, Quality, Relation, Mo
dality. Accordingly we r.nn p.nnat.rnp.t a talvLp nf
the pure or' basic Categories. " which are all that
tlie^ Understanding contains in itself a-priori* and
through which it is the pure Understanding . ' '

I. Quantity.

(1) Unity (oneness.)

( 2 ) Multiplicity ( many ness ) .

(3) Totality(allness).

II. Quality.

(1) Reality.

(2) Negation.

(3) Limitation.

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YT1C. 537

III. Relation.

(1) Inherence and Substance.

(2) Cause and Effect (Dependence).

(3) Reciprocal Action.

IV. Modality.

(1) Possibility and Impossibility.

(2) Being and Non-being.

(3) Necessity and Chance.

Such is Kant's attempt to set forth and to
order the fundamental Categories of all know
ing, for " only through them can the Under
standing understand — think an object given in
Sense-perception." Of course this table has
been exposed to much criticism. Some think
that the Categories are too many, some too few.
Very naturally their derivation from Formal Logic
is objected to as being no proper derivation. But
for the present we shall pass by their further
discussion, remarking that by Kant it seems to
have been regarded as ajdnd of universal frame
work for organizing his thoughts .

2. The Object in Sense-perception. This is in
general the material which the Understanding
through its Categories is to appropriate, that is,
to know. Already we have had to deal with
this object as phenomenon in Transcendental
Aesthetic . There we found that the Ego cannot
even sense the thing as it is in itself, but imposes
upon it a-priori forms of its own (Space and
Time). Thus the Object in Sense-perception

538 MODERN- EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

has been already transformed by the Ego, in
order to he Phenomenon, in order to exi.st at all
for us. Such is the mental condition which the
Understanding finds already prepared as its
material : the mind is full of Phenomena, single

o

percepts, in a state of separation. On the other
hand we have seen the Understanding fitted out
with its ordered store of Categories. But behind
ljoth_these extremes, the Phenomena and the
Categories, lies the^jinifyino- principle common
to both, the Egolis self -consciousness. Accom
panying Sense-perception on one side, and
the Understanding on the other side is the
principle which binds together both sides, which
Kant calls the original unity of Apperception,
" because it is the self -consciousness which calls
forth the mental act / think, and which accom
panies all mental acts, but is itself accompanied
by none." Hence it is transcendental, remaining
always one and the same in the diversity of the
mind's activity. Such is " the transcendental
unity of self -consciousness," nothing less than
the Ego with its ever-present self-returning and
hence unifying power in all its infinitely varied
functions. As here the philosopher begins to
touch bottom, in fact to reach beyond himself,
it is worth while to see the process in the fore
going discursive statements.

(T)> First we are to grasp the store of mani
fold Phenomena, or Percepts, which have come

KAN T. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YTIC. 539

into the Ego as depository by way of Sense-
perception. Here they are not ordered, as they
have no ordering principle according to Kant.

{U Next we are to grasp the store of mani
fold Categories, which stand over against the
Phenomena — in which fact we see the stage of
separation in this sphere, the Phenomena versus
the Categories, or Sense-perception versus the
Understanding. The Categories, however, are
ordered, even if externally, by Kant, and at the
same time they are to be the orderers of the dis
ordered Phenomena.

(3) Lastly comes the unitary principle lying
back of and connecting both sides, the self -con
sciousness of the Self itself , always one and the
same, accompanying every mental activity, but
accompanied by none but itself. It is both the
attendant and the unifying power of Sense-pc,r-
ception and of the Understanding. This self-con
sciousness Kant deems the original (ursprung-
lich) unity, or that which properly makes or cre
ates unification of the separative activities of the
mind. An act of pure Spontaneity of the Ego
he declares it, or pure Apperception in contrast
to sensuous Perception, hence transcendental
and not empirical. This thought as well as
the term Apperception Kant takes from Leibniz.

One thinks that our philosopher has reached
his truly genetic principle, creative of all unity
amid the multiplicity of human faculties. But

540 MODEBN E UEOPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

now follows a most astonishing fact: Kant,
having formulated the self-active Ego in its
purity (actus purus) as the generative unit out
of which unfold all the diverse special activities,
of which Sense-perception and Understanding
are but two, drops suddenly his principle which
is profoundly psychological, and picks up another
which is essentially metaphysical, taking it from
his Scheme of Transcendental Aesthetic. This
principle we must briefly note.

3. Time as the unifying principle. That is,
the synthesis of Phenomena and Categories is
brought about chiefly through the idea of Time,
though Kant not infrequently adds that of Space.
Still it is the inner sense (that of Time) which
naturally controls this inner movement. Time is
connectedjwitb ^Sense-perception and so with the
sensuous object on the one side, yet it is ajso a
jure^priori lorm on~the other. Thus Kant
deems it the supreme mediating plp-m^nt hpf w

the OppOSJteS, -the Ph^nomPrnm .jnrj th

gory, jn both of which it to a degree participate^
in this way too the Transcendental Aesthetic is
interlinked with the Transcendental Analytic;
the inner separation of the latter is mediated. by
the former into unity.

Kant felt the externality of this solution. To
make Time bridge over the chasm from Object
to the Category, as it were from the outside, is
an explanation which sorely needs an explana-

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YTIC. 54 1

tion. The question rises : By what means does
Time perform this act of synthesis ? Tlmmgh jts
capacity of being an image of every thing sense,d.
Says T£aiTt : rr~ThlTpure image of all objects of
the senses is Time." Thus Time is the a-priori
image, the counterpart to all images of sense or
a-posteriori ; indeed Time is now made by Kant a
pure form of Representation (or Imagination), as
it was a pure Form of Intuition (or Sense-percep
tion) in the Transcendental Aesthetic. The re
sult, however, is that there are two kinds of im
ages, and the dualism is still present. The one he
calls a scheme (form), the other is the true
image, being a picture of some individual object.
Both are products of the Imagination, yet even
this faculty he dualizes into the empirical Imagi
nation producing images, and the pure transcen
dental Imagination producing the scheme, which
is very near to the Categories.

It is useless to pursue Kant further through
his vain and intricate struggles to unite Object
and Category, which he can never effect by the
means which he employs. The gap remains
hpKyAftn gnl-ipmft anc[ image as between Category
and Object. And the reason is evident. The
free process of the Ego he subjects to his
metaphysical forms, which, being alien, are soon
shivered to pieces by the secret energy they seek
to subordinate. Still Kant, seeing his structure
falling asunder, strives to patch it up and splice

542 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it together by some new contrivance which never
fails to show the same old trouble. To our
mind he reveals the struggle between the vanish
ing metaphysical and the rising psychological
principles, the former of which he in part at
least would save.

For we must note that throughout his whole
exposition the psychological element is present,
and is employed, though not in its own right,
but to help the philosopher out of his metaphys
ical difficulties. Note how^£^Jyiti^duces_jtlie
Imagination in this last exposition, in order_to
assist Time in mediating the difference Jbetwegn
Object and Category. Thus a power or ndivity
of the Ego is made to serve the metaphysical
idea of Time, instead of being allowed to do its
work in its freedom. Kant even calls its func
tion the transcendental synthesis of the Imagina
tion, but he still employs it as a means and the
word transcendental is a badge of its servitude.

Nevertheless we should carefully observe what
he has done psychologically, since herein lies the
meaning of his work for the future. Between
Sense-perception and Understanding, which before
stood apart, he has interjected the mediating
activity of the Imagination (Representation).
Quite unintentionally is the thing done, but
reail^ke-hao designated the- three stag£S-o£4ntel-
lect, and has furthermore implied (though not
expressly stated) that these three jstages forin. a

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANAL YTIC. 543

profftag together__AyjbJ£h--markes — a unity . And
he does not fail to hint that behind them all and
containing them all is the Ego, or the primordial
unity of Apperception, as he calls it. Thus we
find lurking in this whole Kantian development
pf the Transcendental Analytic the jpsycho-
lotricnl process of Intellect — Sense-perceptjon,
Tn^on nation f Representation \ and TTnderstand-
a a nb,str.ar,t) . This underlying psy

chological element the philosopher evokes for
the support of his metaphysical superstructure
which, however, is secretly undermined and
destroyed by it, since it is the new principle
evolving itself out of its old metaphysical
shell.

Another significant fact should be mentioned
in this connection. In the first edition of this
Critique, Kant elaborates fully these three
stages of Intellect which he directly names " the
threefold synthesis which necessarily takes place
in every act of knowing." While 'he calls the
whole a synthesis, yet he also names each of the
three stages a synthesis, as follows ; "(1) the
synthesis of Apprehension in Sense-perception ;
(2) the synthesis of Reproduction in Imagi
nation; (3) the synthesis of Recognition in
Thought (Begrif) " It is well to observe
specially that in the third stage the principle of
Recognition is declared to be that of Thought.
Morever this whole synthesis is carried back

544 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

to " the unity of consciousness" or to "the
function of the Ego " expressly.

Now comes the surprising fact that Kant threw
out of his second edition of the present Critique
(1787) this entire psychological development as
it had been presented in the first edition (1781).
What was his true motive ingoing so? This has
been a question with all the commentators, who
have answered it variously. Kant himself im
plies in his Preface that he cut the passage out
in order " to prevent his book from getting too
voluminous," which is of course a mere pretext,
since the passage is not very long and since he
does not show the same anxiety to abridge irrele
vant portions elsewhere in his work.

Our own opinion is that Kant begins to feel,
if not to see, that just "this synthesis of the
Ego " meant a complete reconstruction of his
whole system. The play of discussion for six
years upon his book as well as his own inner re
flections had revealed to him where lay the
germinal principle which was destined to out
grow and even to swallow up his painfully elab
orated structure. Kant was not ready, internally
nor externally, to abandon his philosophic house
and to build a now one at his time of life. He
was going to live in it to the end, eliminating only
those parts which opened a vista to its evanish-
ment in an entirely new edifice. Who can have
the heart to blame the old man?

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL ANALYTIC. 545

Soon Fichte began the work of the inner
metamorphosis of the Kantian Philosophy by
bringing out and putting to the front just that
Ego which Kant had tried so hard to limit, if
not to suppress. Fichte obliterated at a blow
the Thing-in-itself which cannot be known, yet
is the starting-point according to Kant. Really
this is the Ego, which alone is, declares Fichte,
and thus wipes out the Kantian dualism be
tween subject and object, by turning the latter
back into the former as its true source and
reality. But of course Fichte will not be the
end of this movement.

So Kant issues forth from his Transcendental
Analytic with his ordered table of Categories,
through which he is to subsume and thus unify
all the multiplicity of the sensuous object as given
in Sense-perception. It is a great and fecund
thought whose mightiest progeny will be Hegel,
whose Logic is a new discussion and ordering of the
Categories as the fundamental problem of Philo
sophy. But Hegel goes back and reconstructs
that LogicTrorn which Kant, adopted his Categor-
ies ready-made, in this case accepting tho trarty-
'mittcd system (that of Formal Logic) contrary to
his revolutionary wont. Hegel is, therefore* the
greatest pupil of th_e_Tranafiendentfl] Analytic.
getting jack of its pre-suppositions,

ing the whole edifice after an entirely now
ciple. To this he is seemingly driven by the

35

546 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

limits which Kant puts upon the present sphere.
For Kant will next proceed to circumscribe a field
of knowledge to which the preceding Categories
do not apply. That is, there is a domain, of
knowledge or intellect which the Categories can
not categorize. Now we are to see what this is.
III. TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. — This is
gi ven in the Scheme as th e second Division of Trans
cendental Logic, which is itself a subordinate part
of a still higher Division of the entire Critique.
This Kantian Gothicism we have felt compelled
to throw aside, as already noted, and to drop
back upon what we deem the simple innermost
movement of the book, whereof the present is
the third stage. As the Transcendental Aesthetic
deals with the Phenomena of Sense-Perception,
find__the Transcendental Analytic with the Cate
gories of the Understanding, now the_Tnmscen-

CJental Dialectic, .[ft to ripnl with t.hft Tffoii.q o f

Reason. Moreover if we may judge by the title
of his book (Critique of Pure Reason), the
author has now come to that portion which was
the real purpose and aim of his whole work.

What are these Ideas of Pure Reason? In
general they are expressed by the Infinite, the
Unconditioned, the Whole or Totality. The
Understanding gives only the Finite, the Condi
tioned, the Particular; the result is the Mind or
Ego drives it beyond itself with its limitation into
some form of the Unlimited. Such a function"

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 547

of the mind is called by Kant Eeason, which is
jius the limit-transcending principle, and posits
its forms named Ideas of Reason. It is hence the
faculty of the jgnprprrm npjf.y nyer against the
faculty of separation which is the U

Or we may say that Reason is the faculty of the
Infinite, while the Understanding is the faculty
of the Finite. Reason calls up the Universe, the
Understanding calls up a portion thereof, which
of course is limited by another portion.

Reason, then, must have its Categories likewise,
which, however, mean the one thing, and are
really but one Category. Hence these Ideas of
Reason, even if differently applied, are at bottom
one Idea, which is the Idea of the All, the Uni
verse. Stilljbhis Idea of the Universe unfolds-
itself into three fundamental forms — Gocl,
World, and Man, — with which Philosophy has
occupied itself from the beginning.

But now comes the trouble which calls forth
the negative soul of Kant in its full intensity.
The Ideas of Reason_are simply regulative prin
ciples for the Categories of the TTnrlpfratanding.
lying back of them and unifying them, hnf not
, subject to them, not ro.gn]n.t.flH hy th^m Now,
when the Understanding applies its Categories,
conditioned, finite, derived from experience, to
the Ideas of Reason, unconditionedy infinite, the
Totality (properly just one Idea and that is the
A11), there rises theCcleepest contradlCticmr^Qf j| t (

548 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Philosophy. Two wholly opposite predicates
*are affirmed of every form of these Ideas of
Reason, and the Universe itself is split asunder
with two completely diverse meanings, whose
conflict produces the Transcendental Dialectic.

Kant's procedure will give in three separate
discussions the three elements or stages — Soul
(Ego), World, God — to each of which the
Understanding will apply (or rather has applied
in the old Metaphysics) its Categories, for the
purpose of bringing these three subjects into the
realm of scientific knowledge. But thus springs
up the contradiction with Reason and its Ideas,
which are always present in the mind with their
Totality or Universe.

Accordingly we shall now have the following
order : —

A. The Ego (Soul) as the source of conflict
between Reason and Understanding, giving rise
to the Paralogisms of Pure Reason.

B. The World as the source of conflict between
Reason and Understanding, giving rise to the
Antinomies of Pure Reason.

C. God as the source of conflict between
Reason and Understanding, giving rise to the
conflicting Ideal of Pure Reason.

On these lines we shall unfold this part, doubt
less the niost important and influential of Kant's
Philosophy.

A. Ego — Paralogisms of Pure Reason. In

KANT.— TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 549

the Kantian Scheme this is the first head under
the Second Book of Transcendental Dialectic.
The word Paralogism is applied by Kant to
the contradictions of this sphere, which is that
of the old Eational Psychology coming down
through Wolff from Leibniz and the Seventeenth
Century. It is the Psychology dominated by
Metaphysics, and this domination is the central
point of Kant's assault.

The theme is now the Ego or Soul, as think
ing or self-conscious. " I (Ego) as thinking
am an object of the inner Sense and am called
Soul." That is, I cognize myself to be self-
conscious. This is also expressed in the sen
tence I think, "which is the single text of
Rational Psychology, out of which all its wisdom
is to be developed." Moreover it is " the
simple Apperception (self-conscious act) which
makes all transcendental concepts possible,"
for I (my Ego) must think Substance, Cause,
aud the rest. This Ego, then, by its very
nature is the source of all the illusions of the
Idea, being itself double. It has an object, but
this object is only apparent, since it is itself or
subject. The content of Rational Psychology
or the Science of the Self is " what can be in
ferred, independent of all experience, from the
concept Ego in so far as this manifests itself in
thinking." The empirical element is to be
strictly excluded; the Self is to look at itself

550 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

purely and turn away from all content given
from the outside, telling what it is accord
ing to its stock of categories. At this point
the difficulty begins, since these categories
apply to concepts of the Understanding, which are
derived from experience. But now they are
applied to what is beyond experience, to the
pure Ego, which in Kantian phrase is transcen
dent. Or, the knowledge of the Conditioned is
transferred to the Unconditioned, and thus pro
duces a mere show of knowledge — which state
of things was the untruth inherent in the old
Metaphysics, according to Kant. When Ego as
subject applies to itself categories which belong
to it as object in experience, it commits the
Kantian Paralogism. The mistake of Rational
Psychology was to take subject for object and
to name it thing or substance. This gives rise
to the Transcendental Dialectic, based upon a
finite or conditioned category applied to an
unconditioned content.

Our first effort must be to grasp Kant's view
of the Ego. " It is not even a concept of the
Understanding, but a mere consciousness which
accompanies all concepts." Very disparaging
toward the Ego is such a remark ; Kant almost
shows impatience with this accompanying Self,
whose presence is indeed not to be gotten rid of
by calling it hard names, by designating it as
" an utterly empty idea, without any content."

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 55 1

Our philosopher seems to have a premonition
that just from this Ego is to come his chief
trouble. He goes on: " Through this Ego (or
thing) which thinks there is nothing conceived
but a transcendental subject (an unknown x) of
which we cannot have the least notion apart
from the thoughts which are its predicates."
The Ego, therefore, as thinking thing (res cogi-
tans) cannot be known as it is itself. Still it is
always present in thinking and at work, returning
upon itself "in a continuous circle," which
gives positive discomfort ( Unbtquemlichkeit) to
Kant, who seems to be dimly aware that he docs
not grasp it in its complete, self -returning pro
cess. For it is quite impossible for even him to
escape " turning around in the everlasting cir
cle " when he wishes " to form any judgment
about it." Thus his -Ego has to take his Ego as
its content, though it is "utterly empty and
without content " in such an act. Very plainly
does Kant give evidence of wrestling with a great
difficulty in his own doctrine.

In fact is he not unconsciously denying all that
he consciously says? Does not his Ego, in the
preceding account of itself, turn back upon itself
and tell a great deal about itself, which it was
not supposed to be able to know? Is it so utterly
devoid of content when it has itself as content?
And is it not a very important item of self-
knowledge when Kant says that his Ego can-

552 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

not know what it is in itself? Thus Kant's
negation comes back to himself though after
slaying the enemy. His negative argument is
directed against the old Rational Psychology,
but it is equally good against himself. And if
we study his text and his temper, we cannot help
believing that he was at times half aware of the
fact.

Kant persists, however, in maintaining openly
that the Ego cannot separate itself from its con
cepts or categories and conceive and categorize
itself. "The subject (Ego) of the categories
cannot, through the fact that it thinks these, ob
tain a concept of itself as an object of the cate
gories." The Ego cannot turn around and apply
to itself the categories which it thinks (these
being derived from experience), without commit
ting a Paralogism. Rational Psychology applies
the category of substance to the Ego, as if this
were perceived like an object, whereas the Ego
cannot be known according to Kant, who in the
main denies the Ego's power of separating itself
from its thoughts, and making itself its own con
cept. Yet Kant is doing this very thing all the
time, even while he says it cannot be done. He
does not recognize the self -separation of the Ego ;
he would have only the immediate " unity of
consciousness which lies at the basis of the cate
gories," and which properly cannot be known at
all. The Ego as fully functional or as complete

KANT. — TEANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 553

process is as little employed by Kant as by the
older metaphysicians whom he assails. He holds
that the Ego cannot judge of the Ego, since it is
the Ego who is the judge; that is, I cannot be
judge and litigant also. But the fact is, this is
just the nature of the Ego, this act of self -divi
sion and self -judgment. Indeed, is not Kant's
Ego in the present discussion, playing the part of
a judge of itself, and laying down the law in its
own case, even while denying its own jurisdiction?

To our mind, then, Kant's own treatment of
the Dialectic of these Ideas of the transcendental
Ego is itself dialectical, and his own negative con
clusion conies back to itself, negating itself as
well as the notion of the soul's substance. What
is the outcome of this double negative? Some
thing positive, we may be sure; as we think, the
positive Ego with its true process, is pretty cer
tain to emerge, as it is really what is underlying
and fermenting in all these struggles, we might
almost say at times, convulsions of the phi
losopher.

The leading Categories of the Soul as tran
scendental are next investigated and denied.
These Kant makes four in accordance with his
scheme of the four fundamental Categories. So
the four chief predicates of Rational Psychology
are the soul's immateriality, simplicity, self-
identity (personality), and immortality. The
same difficulty inheres in all these predicates :

554 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

they, derived from experience, are made to apply
to that which is beyond experience, which is in
fact unknown. For instance to say that the
soul is an immaterial substance is to be guilty of
a Paralogism, and is equivalent to declaring
matter to be immaterial.

It ought to be added, however, that really
there are not four but three predicates in the
preceding list, Kant adding the fourth in order
to force the treatment into his scheme. These
are (1) the Soul or Ego as immaterial, not ex
tended; (2) the Soul as not ^divided or divisible,
hence not limited from without or within, and
thus immortal; (3) the Soul as self-identical,
or as Person — the self -returning principle which
Kant denies but employs even in his denial.
Particularly this last principle is Kant's boom
erang — the missile with which he smites the
enemy, but which is certain to come back to
himself, it being just the self -returning princi
ple which he is employing all the time, but
which his whole proof declares to be an illusion.

Observations. — We shall emphasize separatelv
several points in the foregoing exposition, as
Kant here touches the very germ of the future
of his science.

1. He sees that the Ego is the source of this
Transcendental Dialectic, and affirms it to be
source of all illusions in this field. Hence he
places it first, dwelling upon its double nature

KANT. - TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 555

as subject and object. Yet Kant's Ego (the
source of illusion) is doing this and declaring it
to be truth.

2. Kant's view is that there can be no pos
sible category for the self -returning Ego. For
every category of the Understanding, being
derived from experience, can only apply to
objects which are without any self-return, or
are without consciousness.

3. Every attempt of the Ego to categorize
itself metaphysically must be paralogistic, ap
plying to the unconditioned what belongs only
to the conditioned. There results a double con
tradiction: (a) I, declaring (for example) the
Soul to be substance, take that as an experi
ential object which is beyond experience, (b) I,
havino- affirmed the soul to be an immaterial

o

object, give to it two contradictory predicates,
like immaterial matter. But both these contra
dictions go back to the one source : the attempt
of the Ego to formulate itself through the cate
gories of the Understanding.

4. Kant's criticism holds of the Ego as meta
physical (as distinct from the psychical) . One
cannot apply to the self-returning, self-conscious
Ego the categories derived from the object or
thing not self -returning, not self-conscious. Thus
Kant destroys not only the old, but all meta
physical Psychology, even those systems of it
which come after him are slain in advance.

556 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

5. The negation of Kant, however, reaches all
introspection, and assails the very principle of
the self-return. At this point we can see how
completely our philosopher undoes himself, for
his Ego is looking at itself while denying that it
can look at itself, or while declaring that such
introspection is the source of illusion . According
to his own logic, then, his very negation is an
illusion — which it is.

6. The positive outcome of Kant's negative
criticism is that the Ego must make its own
categories applicable to itself and to its own
processes. It has already formulated the object
in categories, why should it not formulate itself,
being just the self-returning, self-conscious
principle? Then we shall have the psychical
categories of the Ego versus the metaphysical
ones of the Understanding, which Kant seems to
think the; only possible ones. Indeed if he had
ever come upon the other set (the psychical), his
whole Scheme would have been capsized, and he
would have been compelled to re-construct his
entire Philosophy. We may note here by the
way, that it is the new Psychology (not the
rational or the empirical) which is lurking in these
negative throes of Kant, and is seeking to get rid
of its old metaphysical fetters in order to be born,
and to speak in its own name and with its own
categories.

7 . The Ego is the source of all the contradic-

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 557

tions which Kant will seek to show in the following
Antinomies and in the Ideal of the Pure Reason.
They all go back to that self-returning principle
which cannot be categorized metaphysically with
out involving a contradiction, and which has its
primordial starting-point in the Ego. The at
tempt to apply the Categories of the Understand
ing (derived from Experience) to the World and
to God will bring to light the same fundamental
difficulty.

B. The World — The Antinomies of Pure
Reason. Such is the second head under the
Second Book of Transcendental Dialectic (see
Scheme). Here Kant passes from the science
of the Ego as Substance (Rational Psychology )
to the science of the World or Nature (Rational
Cosmology). The theme embraces, therefore,
the second stage of the philosophical Norm,
whose traditional treatment in Philosophy is now
to be subjected to the fire of Kantian criticism.

As in the preceding case of the Ego, so now
the difficulty arises when the categories of expe
rience are applied to the Ideas of Reason, or
when the conditioned is predicated of the un
conditioned. "It is the Understanding which
produces pure and transcendental concepts," not
the Reason which has merely a regulative
power over them, seeking " to extend them
beyond the limits of experience yet in connection
with the same," and thus projecting them into a

558 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

series. Kant makes much of the distinction
between Keason and Understanding. " If the
conditioned is given (by the Understanding), so
is the whole sum of conditions given also (by
the Reason)," which is simply the unconditioned,
whereby the conditioned is possible. There
would be no movement of the Understanding out
of its limits unless it were spurred up by Reason
to transcend them and to take another step. It
is the function of the Understanding to form
concepts from the percepts of sense, and to ex
press such concepts in categories. But if the
Understanding turns back and undertakes to
formulate the Reason propelling it always beyond
itself in these categories derived by it from
experience, there rises what Kant calls the Dia
lectic of the Ideas of Reason, of which we have
already seen the first stage, that of the Soul or
Ego.

The Ideas of Pure Reason now produce in the
realm of Cosmology a new kind of difficulty.
We have Antinomies instead of Paralogisms
which, as we have just seen, arise from the Ego
applying to itself categories taken from the
object, and thus contradicting its own nature.

But the Antinomy doubles this contradiction,
making it two-sided instead of one-sided. It is
" a conflict of the laws (anti, nomos} of Pure
Reason," of which there are two; each is valid
before Reason, yet each is the opposite of the

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 559

other. What is poor Reason to do? Each prin
ciple (or law) receives her assent, yet each con
tradicts the other. For instance, if it is said
that the World has a beginning in Time, Reason
assents ; but if it is also said that the World has
no beginning in Time, Reason is unable to deny
the proposition. This is . the Kantian Antinomy
which has a different subject-matter from the
Paralogism, namely the World or the Universe
as the totality of all things, of which two oppo
site predicates are affirmable before Reason.

It will thus be seen that the Paralogism is
different from, yet closely related to, the Anti
nomy. In the first the contradiction lies in a
single proposition between subject and predicate,
and thus is implicit ; in the second, the contradic
tion lies between the two propositions themselves,
and thus is explicit. We may, therefore, say that
the Ego (as metaphysical) is paralogistic, while
the World (as metaphysical) is antinomian.

And now we shall seek to grasp the ground of
the cosmological contradiction or Antinomy.
The subject throughout is the World, which is
declared to have two contradictory predicates,
each of which is affirmed to be true by Reason.
But if we note carefully we shall find that this
subject, the World, is used by Kant in two
contradictory senses, which fact is simply de
clared in the predicate. In one case it means the
Whole, in the other a part of the Whole. When

560 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it is said that "the World has no beginning in
Time," the World is the Universe and includes
Time ; but when it is said that " the World has a
beginning in Time," it is manifestly a part of
the Universe and does not include Time. The
Antinomies or contradictory predicates really
spring from a double meaning of the one subject.
The first question, then, must be in the given
case : Does the World mean the Universe or
only a part of it, or perchance a stage of its
process?

A further question at once springs up : How
does it happen that these two meanings of the
World are so intimately bound together in the
mind? A full answer cannot at present be
given; in fact such an answer would lead us
beyond Kant. The main point now is to take
notice of this double meaning, or, as we may call
it, this Double World which underlies the
Kantian Antinomies, with the hope of finding
the clew later.

The Antinomies are four according to Kant,
who here applies to them the four kinds of judg
ment taken from his logical scheme (Quantity,
Quality, Modality, Relation). Such a schematic
application is unquestionably forced, though the
Antinomies be real. These we may proceed to
consider at once in their order, the contradictory
propositions being indicated by the terms Thesis
and Antithesis.

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 561

I. The first Antinomy, or " the first conflict
of transcendental Ideas."

(1) Thesis. The World has a beginning in
Time and a limit in Space, — If there were no
limit in Time, there would be no Now; if there
were no limit in Space there would be no complete
World.

(2) Antithesis. The World has no beginning
in Time, and no limit in Space. — If it had such
limits, it would not be the World, the all-including
totality of existence (the Universe).

Thus these two contradictory principles, or
universal laws (nomoi) seem equally valid for
the Reason, even while saying opposite things.
We must look carefully at the subject of these
propositions, the World, for in it lies the chief
difficulty. By means of it Kant suninjons before
himself the absolute Totality, the All, the One
as unconditioned, in fine the Universe. Such is
properly not only the subject but the subject-
matter of these Antinomies. In such case Space
and Time must be inside the world. And yet
on the other hand the World as created, or as
beginning or begun, is conceived as in Space
and Time, is here and now, is a reality present
to me immediately, empirically, while the World
as the absolute totality is not thus present.

One asks : Over what is all this mental strug
gle? . Ultimately over the creation of the World
and its Creator. Is He inside the Universe He

36

562 MODE EN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

creates or outside? In other words, is He im
manent or transcendent? Is He a creative part
of the Whole or is He the Whole creative? To
be sure the theological question is as yet implicit,
but we shall find it becoming explicit in a later
portion of the Transcendental Dialectic.

Moreover the World is seen here with its two
meanings. In the one case it is contained in
Time and Space, in the other it is " the absolute
Totality " and contains Time and Space.

II. The second Antinomy Kant makes quali
tative, as the first was quantitative.

(1) Thesis. Everything composite in the
World consists of or is divisible into simple
parts (atoms). — Otherwise it would be composed
of what is not simple or what is itself composite.

(2) Antithesis. Nothing composite in the
World consists of or is divisible into simple
parts. — For the simplest part or atom must be
extended, and so divisible, hence composite.

The World as material is the subject of this
Antinomy. Matter is extended and thus com
posite. Of what is it composed? Primarily of
ultimate particles which are simple and indi
visible. But thus these particles would not be
extended and so not material ; out of the unex-
tended we cannot compose the extended. Hence
the World as material is infinitely divisible.

If the atom or ultimate particle be truly in
divisible, it must exclude all difference from

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 563

itself, not only quantitative but also qualitative.
Then all atoms are finally of the same kind,
or homogeneous, and are the one constituent
element to which all the variety of the world
can be reduced. Thus the Atom has become
the principle of Natural Science, which, however,
is troubled with the Antinomy of making what
is extended indivisible.

Here again we find two meanings of the
World or specially of the World as composite.
As a part or stage, it can have division from the
outside, and so is divisible ; but as the Universe,
it cannot have external division or divisibility.
Its only division is division from within or self-
division, which is at the same time one and itself.
The second Antimony thus shows the Double
World; first as partial and so divisible, secondly
as Whole and so one or rather one process which
includes division with the return to unity. This
we shall find to be the psychical process, that of
the Ego, which Kant notices in connection with
present Antinomy, though he persists in denying
its self-dividing power.

III. The third Antinomy pertains to the con
flict between Causation and Freedom.

(1) Thesis. The world with its phenomena
is governed not only by natural causes, but by a
free cause, or self-cause. — Each natural cause
is itself an effect produced by a preceding cause,
and so on in a series. But there must be a

5G4 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

cause which is not effect for starting the series,
this is the free cause, called by Kant " spon
taneity of causes." The dependent depends on
the self-dependent, the determined on the self-
determined.

(2) Antithesis. The world with its phenom
ena is governed only by natural laws, and there
is no free cause. — For if the world has a cause
different from it, or outside of it, then it is not
the world as absolute Totality, or the Whole.

Here rises another phase of the creative prin
ciple of the Universe: Is it transcendent or im
manent? A free-acting First Cause which origi
nates the World with its phenomena is conceived
as outside that World. On the other hand the
idea of the World demands that everything, even
the cause be included in itself. Thus all causa
tion must be construed as immanent.

More plainly than in the previous Antinomies
does the Double World now show itself. The
World as a part, or the caused or created, has its
cause outside of itself. On the other hand the
World as the All must have its cause inside itself,
or immanent. Moreover, it again becomes ap
parent that this total world or Universe is a pro
cess made up of three stages, Cause, Caused,
and Self -Cause. Here we can see that the World
as caused, in which " everything happens
simply according to natural laws," is properly

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 565

the second stage of the total process of the
Universe.

IV. The fourth Antinomy treats of the conflict
which lies in the idea of a necessary being.

(1) Thesis. To the world belongs something
which as a part of it (inside) or as cause of it
(outside) is a purely necessary being. — Every
conditioned thing pre-supposes a complete series
of conditions up to the Unconditioned which is
the necessary.

(2) Antithesis. There exists no purely neces
sary being, neither in the World nor outside the
World as a cause. — If there was a necessary or
unconditioned Being in the conditioned World,
it would lie outside of this World, which would
thus not be the Whole. So also with neces
sary Being as cause of the World. In his
remarks on this Antinomy Kant seems for
a moment to see that it is a double view of the
World which produces the contradictory predi
cates. " The first argument regards solely the
absolute Totality of the series of conditions and
thereby reaches an unconditioned and necessary."
On the other hand " the second Argument

O

regards only the contingency of everything in
the series," from which can arise nothing uncon
ditioned and necessary, since each is conditioned
through the other. That is, the Totality is con
sidered in the one case and the Part in the other.
It is evident that the last two Antinomies

566 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

belong together, being only slight variations of
the same theme. We see that Kant's fourfold
scheme of the Categories is the machine which
compels him to duplicate the last Antinomy. In
strictness, then, there are here but three Antino
mies, and these show themselves related together
as a process of the Ego (Psychosis). We shall
have, then, the following three stages: —

(«) The Double World as immediate (in Time
and Space ) . Both limited and unlimited in each .

(6) The Double World as divisive (the mate
rial World). Both divisible (from without),
and indivisible (self-divided).

(c) The Double World as determined (caused,
created). Both determined (conditioned or
necessitated) and not determined (which means
self-determined, though Kant does not directly
say so).

Such is the true outcome of the process of
the Antinomies: we are made conscious of the
World as Universe, self-determined, positing
within itself it own divisions and conditions,
which World Kant, even when calling it by
such names as Absolute Totality, could never
fully separate from an externally conditioned
World, and grasp in its own process. The
source of his failure lies in his not seeing the
process of the Ego as self -separating and self-
returning, thus having within itself and creating
ideally all division and all unity. The World in

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 567

its truth is just this process of the Ego realized,
or, as we have elsewhere called it, the Pampsy-
chosis. Now this Pampsychosis (or the Uni
verse as psychical process) hovers dimly before
Kant; it is in fact the thing which he seeks to
grasp and to formulate. But he cannot get out
of his own separative stage (which is supremely
that of his Century) and return to the unity
of the All or Universe, thus reproducing
the complete movement of his Self in that
of the Universe. His own inner division he
carries over into the World, which thus
becomes as dualistic as he is. Still we must not
forget the great service of Kant: he has com
pelled the philosophy of his age to grapple with
this lurking process both in the Ego and in the
Universe, so that what in him is as yet but
implicit will become explicit with time.

Moreover, Kant has in these Antinomies
brought to light the World's Dialectic, which

O D

is verily of far-reaching import. The incessant
struggle between the Finite and the Infinite, the
Particular and the Universal, the Many and the
One, in their thousand transformations, he has
here seized with a giant's hand and held up
before all coming generations.

Thus we have the World's Antinomies, as pre
viously we had the Ego's Paralogisms. The
reader now begins to see that Kant's negative
procedure is following the philosophic Norm,

568 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL O SOPHY.

whose third member, the Absolute or God, he
next proceeds to consider.

C. God, — The Ideal of Pure Reason. This is
the title which Kant gives to the third head
(Hauptstuck) of the Second Book of the Tran
scendental Dialectic. Corresponding, then, to
the Paralogism and the Antinomy, is the Ideal
of Pure Eeason, which is now to be discussed.
This Ideal will also show an inner contradiction
between Eeason and Experience which makes it
dialectical. But its' content or subject-matter is
a new Totality, nothing less than God Himself,
the sum total of all things (omnitudo realitatis,
or the Allness of reality), truly the Whole of all
wholes.

Thus we come to the third Whole, God, in a
line of succession with the two preceding
Wholes, the Ego and the World. Moreover the
Kantian battery is turned against the metaphysi
cal science of this Whole or of God which in the
philosopher's time went under the name of
Eational Theology. Note again that the idea of
the Whole or of the absolute Totality is the source
of the entire dialectical trouble from the begin
ning. For it is the idea given by Eeason and
unattainable by Experience; yet to this idea
entirely beyond the Understanding the latter
will apply the categories derived from Experience,
making it thereby dialectical.

The reader of to-day, who studies Kant to see

KANT.— TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 569

that which lies potential in him, and which
is to come out of him, will take note of the
fact that he is moving in this dialectical pro
cedure on the lines of the philosophical Norm,
whose three stages he employs in the following
order: Ego, World, and God. It is likewise to
be observed that Kant is assailing the metaphy
sical view of this Norm in all three of its stages, by
showing -that their concepts in the previous Phi
losophy was dialectical, giving rise to an inner
contradiction. Thus we shall find that Kant
quite unconsciously is following the philosophic
Norm; and if we look more deeply into him, we
shall find that he employs it as a process, in fact
as an implicit psychicial process. To be sure,
these things lie not distinctly in the Kantian
Scheme, but they often break up into it, and often
control his exposition, as it were, from under
neath.

Kant seeks to explain his new term, the Ideal.
It is, of course, derived from Idea, but is one
step further removed from Experience than
Idea. He conceives his supersensible world
in three gradations from the sensible world.
First are "the Concepts of the Understanding,
which, though a mere form of thinking, can be
represented concretely," by a real object. Sec
ond are the Ideas " which are still more distant
from the objective reality than the Concepts,
inasmuch as no phenomenon can be found which

570 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

can represent them concretely." Thus we have
a World of Ideas, the realm of Pure Reason.
But now this World of Ideas must be united and
concentrated in one Supreme Idea, the Ideal
" which is yet further removed from the object
ive reality," lying, in fact, just on the other side
of the Universe. Thus according to Kant the
Idea is individualized (in individuo), is the
Whole in all Wholes, which Wholes we have
already seen as given by Reason in its Ideas, and
producing the dialectical conflict of the Antino
mies. Now these Wholes are likewise dialecti
cal in their sphere (though Kant does not
apparently see this), and reduce themselves to
one Whole, which is their essence, the Whole in
all Wholes, the Allness of the Universe (omnitudo
realitatis). Such is the absolute Ideal (not
simply Idea) of Pure Reason, or God conceived
metaphysically in His essence.

It is this new Whole in which Kant proposes
to uncover the contradiction, and thus show to
be dialectical. The question is, Does it exist?
Is it real? At once we begin to spy trouble in
this predicate real, as here applied to the new
Totality. In fact, if we look into the above
cited Kantian phrase, Allness ( Omnitudo) of
reality (realitatis) , we find its two words drop
ping into complete self-opposition and dualism,
flashing their antagonism across the whole diam
eter of the Universe. Can the category taken

KANT. — TEANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 571

from the sense-world apply to the All-in- All,
God? Emphatically not, according to the fore
going Kantian doctrine. But on the other hand
are you going to deny God's existence and thus
shiver the whole fabric of Theology from Anselm
down to the present? The situation shakes Kant
up from the bottom, and he squares himself for
a prodigious effort. He well knows the colossal
edifice which he proposes to batter to pieces.
Accordingly he will here go into details and show
the inherent Dialectic in all the proofs of the
Existence of God descending from the old Meta
physics.

Again appears the same ambiguity which we
noticed in treating of the Paralogism and the
Antinomy. Kant has two meanings of the
word God, one of which takes God as the total
ity of the Universe and the other as a part or
stage thereof. Hence He becomes the subject
of two opposite predications . As the Omnitudo
realitatis he must be the All, the Universe, in
cluding the World and Man (or Ego). But, as
the distinctive Creator or the individual divine
Spirit, he must be different from the World and
Man. Hence we observe here in Kant a Double
God, as we saw a Double World, and also a
Double Ego. Upon this doubleness the Dia
lectic of the Ideal (God) of Pure Reason hinges.
On the one hand if we think God as the totality
of the Universe, he must exist; but if we think

572 MODERN1 EUROPEAN' PHILOSOPHY.

him as a part, then existence does not follow
from conception.

These Proofs of God's existence are three,
according to Kant, which he sets forth in the
following order — Ontological, Cosrnological, and
Physico-theological (Teleological). Let the
alert reader again note the threefold division,
and observe that Kant now drops his Scheme
with its fourfold division which he applied so
rigidly to the Paralogisms and the Antinomies.
Possibly too an underlying psychical process
may again be lurking in the order of these three
Proofs.

I. The ontological Proof infers the existence
of God from my (the Ego's) conception of Him
as the most real Being (ens reatissimum, or
better ens perfectissimum ) . The unreality of the
most real, or the limitation of the most perfect
Being contradicts itself directly in thought, and
so cannot be.

Kant denies the inference. From the concep
tion of anything real, its existence does not follow.
" If I conceive of a Being possessing the highest
reality (without defect), there still remains the
question whether it exists or not." Anyhow, to
say a thing exists " is a mere tautology " for
existence adds nothing to reality. " Existence
(Sein) is no real predicate." Hence Kant
makes his famous statement that ** a hundred
actual (existent) dollars contain no more than a

'KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 573

hundred possible (conceived) dollars." The
real thing cannot be gotten from the concept,
but only from sense-perception. God as " the
most real Being " can only be obtained through
immediate experience.

Most people would answer: " Our God is not
that sort of a reality." The existence of God
as sought to be proved by the ontological argu
ment does not mean that He is present to the
senses. Kant thus assumes his own meaning for
the term real, and then says the argument is not
valid. Who said it was valid to prove any such
reality? Certainly not Anselin, not Descartes,
the latter of whom Kant seems specially to have
had in mind. His objection, however, is old,
going back to the monk Gaunilo, who pertinently
asks Anselm : From my conception of an en
chanted island in the middle of the ocean, am I
to infer its existence? To this question Anselm
would have his answer: the conception of finite
sensible objects in no way corresponds to the
conception of God, the supersensible and infinite
One of the Universe.

The weakness of Kant in the refutation of this
ontological argument has always excited sur
prise. It betrays not only a lack of acumen (in
which Kant was certainly not deficient), but also
a strange ignorance of the History of Philosophy.
Various reasons have been assigned for Kant's
drop at this point : one is that he really believed

571 MODEHN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the ontological proof and yet he had to refute it
to complete the negative sweep of his system.
That is, he disbelieved his own refutation, and
may have been convinced of the opposite by
the weakness of his own argument (a very doubt
ful ground).

It is evident that Kant in his refutation does
not grasp God simply as the Allness of reality,
but also as a stage of this reality, as a real thing.
Properly he recognizes both meanings and hence
comes the Dialectic. (This might be called the
psychological Proof instead of ontological, since
it springs from the Ego's conception of God.)

II. The cosmological Proof of God's existence
comes through the medium of the World
(Cosmos). Through a series of causes and
effects, which latter are again causes, the World
shows itself to be conditioned, contingent. But
such a series presupposes a First Cause or neces
sary Being, on which all depends. Thus we
reach the unconditioned necessary Being which
is through itself or self-subsistent. This same
argument has already been given in the fourth
Antinomy, But the cosmological addition in
the present argument is: Such a necessary
Being is God.

Kant has already shown to his satisfaction
that an unconditional necessary Being cannot
be inferred from a conditioned World (fourth
Antinomy). There remains for him to deny

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 575

the second inference which grounds the cosmo-
logical argument. Hence he declares that even
if we grant the reality of such a necessary
Being, it does not follow that this Being is the
personal God of Theology.

III. The third proof of the existence of God.
Kant calls the Physico-theological, since it starts
out with something in Nature given us by expe
rience. This is the order and design which we

D

behold in the physical world about us, and from
which we rise to the conception of God as the
source of such order and design.

Kant again denies the inference which leaps
from a matter of experience to an entity be
yond experience. Even if we should grant all
these evidences of design in the world (and they
may be questioned) we are not justified in con
cluding from them the existence of a personal
God. At best this argument, usually called the
teleologic, shows an order of the world, an archi
tect who finds his material ready at hand and
shapes it and puts it into place. But the Chris
tian God is not simply a world-builder or demi
urge, but a world-creator, creating all, even his
material. The fact is, the teleologic argument
here employed is heathen, is old Greek, and was
first used by a Greek philosopher, ancient Anaxa-
goras. It implies the eternity of matter, a doc
trine which gave much trouble to the early Chris
tian Church before getting rid of it. Hence,

576 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Theology must go forward to the ontological
argument for proving the existence of God as
the all-creative, which it did in the history of the
Church through Anselm. But in the present case
it must go back to that argument.

Such, then, is the negative outcome of the
Ideal of Pure Keason when the attempt is made
through it to prove the existence of God. The
reader will again observe that the three Proofs
follow in the given order — Ego, World, God.
The first Proof starts immediately with the Ego
conceiving the most real Being within itself and
thence rising to God. The second Proof starts
with the World as contingent and conditioned,
and thence rises to God (through the idea of a
necessary Being). The third Proof starts with
God as manifested in the order and purpose of
the World, and thence rises to his separate ex
istence. But this Proof (as Kant observes)
must go back for its confirmation to the onto
logical Proof, that is to the Ego conceiving, and
so realizing God. And it is also the Ego which
has to conceive of necessary Being and thereby
elevate God out the conditioned World. Thus
underneath all these Proofs lies the process of
Ego formulating God out of itself immediately,
out of the World as contingent, and out of God
in the World as ordered.

Moreover we have now reached the conclusion
of the total movement of the Transcendental

KANT. — TRANSCENDENTAL DIALECTIC. 577

Dialectic which we find has been dealing with
three leading themes — Ego, World, and God.
These we have observed through the whole His
tory of Philosophy as constituting the philosophi
cal Norm and forming together the absolute pro
cess of Universe, which is the fundamental
subject of Philosophy. Thus we can rightly say
that Kant is grappling with the profoundest
matter that has occupied human thought.
What is his treatment of it?

This we may summarize as follows : (a) First
of all, the Norm, though present and determin
ing his work, is not always explicitly and con
sciously present to Kant's mind. Hence his
exposition seems often wandering and uncertain
of its purpose, (b) He changes the order of the
Norm as transmitted (God, World, Man) into
his own separative arrangement (Man, World,
God), which is an inversion of the order, (c)
The reason of this is because he does not con
sciously grasp the process of these three elements
of the Norm, which really constitute the basic
movement of the Universe or the " Absolute
Totality." (d) From this same lack of grasp
ing the process of the All comes the double
nature of his Dialectic, namely, the two mean
ings which he gives respectively to Self, World,
and God. (e) Hence he seeks to invalidate
Self, World, and God as double and inherently
37

578 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

contradictory, as being merely the illusion of
knowledge.

Thus we see that Kant's result is the destruc
tion of the philosophic Norm and with it of
Philosophy as a Discipline which has been pro
duced by this Norm. Such is the extreme nega
tive outcome of the revolutionary Eighteenth
Century in its philosophic aspect, which, as we
have already seen, has its correspondence in the
institutional world. To be sure, Kant saves a
limited sphere of knowledge for man, but in that
sphere the Norm is not included.

Still the Norm is just what underlies all of
Kant's efforts, and is pushing forward to a new
birth. Kant does not really destroy the Norm,
for that is indestructible, but the old metaphy
sical incumbrances of the Norm, which is to
appear in its own native form, that is, to become
psychical. All along we have found hints of this
psychical process bursting up through Kant's
oppressive schematic wrappage of Metaphysics.
It was observed how his discussion of the Para
logism and of the Antinomy became secretly
psychical in spite of his fourfold scheme clapped
on from the outside. Eeally he is calling not
for a new Philosophy to answer his difficulties,
but for a new Discipline, the truly psychical
Discipline, which will bring to light and order
that secret process of the Ego which gives him
so much trouble.

KANT. — CEITIQ UE OF PRACTICAL REASON. 579
•

Still another and greater sweep is here con
cluded : that which embraces essentially this
whole Critique in its three fundamental divi
sions, namely the Aesthetic, the Analytic, and
the Dialectic. These constitute the three main
stages in the Kantian process of knowing the
objective world. This is first taken up by Sense-
perception, after being put under its forms,
Space and Time; these given percepts the Under
standing then elaborates into its Categories, while
Reason unifies the latter into its Ideas, which in
one way or other express the Universe in its
threefold elements of Ego, World, and God (or
subject, object, and subject-object as absolute).

Kant treats of many other topics in his Crit
ique of Pure Reason, butthese we cannot attempt
to discuss.

B. THE CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON.

This is the second of the Three Critiques which
best represent Kant's Philosophy. It appeared
in 1788, seven years after the publication of the
Critique of Pure Reason, of which it is in a
manner the counterpart, though decidedly in
ferior. In the preceding year (1787) a new
edition of the first Critique had been published
in which is seen Kant's tendency to tone down a
number of the extreme views which he had ex
pressed in the first edition. This same tendency

580 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

is far more decided in the present second
Critique, which shows the philosopher in a con
siderable reaction on a number of points against
his earlier self.

The mood of the book is, therefore, of a rela
tively positive cast; by an act of Will which
seems almost violent Kant proposes to put a stop
to the destructive work of his previous book.
The motives assigned for this change in Kant
have been stated variously. Some say that he
o^ot scared at the wrecks strewn about him as the

15

consequences of his own work. Others think
that the changed attitude of the State (Prussia)
influenced him. Frederick the Great, who had
declared that during his reign everybody should
be permitted to get to Heaven in his own fashion,
had died in 1786, and had been "succeeded by Fred
erick William II, whose reign was to be pietistic,
as the Germans call it, with a strict religious
surveillance over doctrinal matters. There can
be no doubt that Kant felt far freer to say what
he thought in 1781 than he did in 1788. He
could hardly help having much respect for, if
not fear of that Will in the State, which in him
self he regarded as final. We are not to forget
his later submission to governmental authority
and humiliating promise of silence in matters of
religion.

The Critique of Practical Reason deals with
what is usually called Ethics, but properly it is

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON. 581

a treatise on Morals as subjective. A work on
Ethics in the old Greek and wider sense it is
not, for it excludes institutions. In this respect
the example of Kant has been unfortunate for
the present science. The truth is that in him
appear the pronounced dualism and mutual op
position between the moral and institutional,
which went over into the following (nineteenth)
Century with such power. Though Kant treats
of both Church and State in his writings, those
institutions are not organically connected with
his fundamental thought. His freedom remains
subjective, individual, moral; that the State, for
instance, is ideally a Free-Will whose end is to
secure Free-Will, lies not in his horizon. The
categorical Imperative of the Ego has the pri
macy, which is sure to beget a conflict with
other Egos and their categorical Imperatives,
which conflict the State can only solve externally
by law. Kant's freedom is not institutional, but
moral ; in which fact he represents his country
and his age. It was his Century that made the
fiercest attack on institutions as the established
and transmitted, which has ever been known in
history. The individual Ego of that time showed
its deepest breach with its environing social
order, and Kant was the philosopher of that
revolutionary Ego, placing supreme stress upon
the Imperative of the inner Self.

It is of the greatest interest to the student

582 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of the History of Philosophy to see how Kant
turns to the Will and emphasizes it in his
Practical Eeason. From this point of view the
work shows a psychical advance. In the inter
vening years Kant has decisively experienced that
in his first Critique he has not considered one
supreme activity of the mind — Volition. He
has dealt only with Intellect, which he has
limited on all sides. To be sure he calls his
book a Critique of the Pure Reason , but it is
really a Critique of the Intellect, and embraces
Sense-perception, Imagination (or Representa
tion), Understanding, besides Reason. When
he takes up the Will and correlates it with his
preceding work, we can see that his own spirit
ual evolution is becoming psychical, which fact
we deem decided progress and a pointing toward
the future.

When we look into this second Critique, we
observe that its procedure is anything but a real
ization of Kant's Will as absolute spontaneity.
In the first place it is not strictly a Critique
at all, as Kant acknowledges; in the next place
it lies not in the sphere of Reason. Still Kant
forces this title upon his book to make it seem
parallel with his first Critique. Then the divi
sions of it into Analytic and Dialectic are equally
violent, being dragged in from his first Critique,
and hammered into a kind of uniformity. Thus
his exposition of freedom is about as unfree as

583

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON.

can be conceived. There is no inner spontane
ous development of his theme, but its adjust
ment to a predetermined scheme contradictory
to its very nature.

And yet even in this matter Kant reflects his
world, or rather his nature and his age. This
Kantian dualism between inner freedom and
outer determinism was the Germany of his time,
and is the Germany of to-day : an unlimited lib
erty within, privately, for yourself; but an
unlimited absolutism without, publicly, for the
world. Here lies the fundamental difference
between the two great branches of the Teutonic
race. The Anglo-Saxon is going to have public,
institutional freedom, or die ; the German is going
to have private, subjective freedom, and is will
ing to let himself be determined in public rela
tions by authority, which he has no hand in
selecting. For this and other reasons Kant is
supremely the philosopher of his people, is so
to-day; he never has been and never can be
the philosopher of Anglo-Saxondom though of
course we can all learn much from him.

What the Intellect cannot know, the Will
postulates, namely, God, Freedom, Immortality.
If I undertake to think the Universe as real, I
commit a contradiction, I apply to the Infinite a
finite predicate. But I expostulate the Universe
with its process, which I can never know. In
other words, I must make or remake God in

584 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

order to possess Him. This is a valid thought,
but Kant leaves out the other side : God must
create me as creative ere I can re-create Him.
Primarily, then, Kant simply assumes the Ego
and its freedom as something given, as an ultimate
fact of consciousness. But the Ego will ask of
itself: whence this postulating power of mine,
which can even postulate my Maker? The answer
to this question lies outside of Kant's horizon.

Will thus takes possession of the whole Ego,
and sets to one side the Intellect. The primacy
of the Will it is called ; herein we see the origin
of the doctrine of Voluntarism, which has
recently been held up as the final word of Phi
losophy. But Will and Intellect are equally valid
stages in the process of the complete mind ; there
is properly no primacy of one or of the other.
The Kantian dualism between Intellect and Will,
belongs specially to the Eighteenth Century, and
is already stated by Hume explicitly, who says
that action gives the lie direct to all that theory
holds. A similar view, though more implicit,
we can trace in Locke .

We may now see that Will has been the
secret hostile demiurge who has been destroy
ing the a-priori element of Intellect, till at last
it conies to itself and then it proceeds despot
ically to postulate itself as the true a-priori
principle which postulates the other a-priori
principles — God, Freedom, Immortality. Thus

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON, 585

Will not only postulates itself as primordial,
but postulates itself as the postulator of
all that it has denied to Intellect. This looks
as if our Free- Will had become an intoler
ant tyrant in the citadel of liberty. How
very similar to the movement of the French
Revolution! The Will, assailing the Intellect
for the tyranny of its transmitted doctrines,
destroys its foe in the name of freedom, and
then seizes absolute power with its own hands.
It may be said that Kant gets his Freedom by
violence, in true revolutionary fashion, wrench
ing it through postulation from the Ego, which
knows it not, as he supposes.

The Will postulates Freedom immediately, as
the primordial essence of the Ego, Then it postu
lates Immortality through the ideal of perfect Vir
tue which an imperfect being can realize only in
an endless continuance of Time, Finally it postu
lates God through the ideal of perfect Happiness
which an imperfect being can realize only through
an absolute Being or God. You are to act as if
you had immortal life for attaining perfect Vir
tue, though you can have no knowledge of such
a life. You are to act as (/there were a God for
securing your perfect Happiness, though you can
never know that there is a God. But especially
you are to act as if you. were a free man, though
you cannot know that you are really free. Is it
a wonder that the ardent student of Kant, Schop-

586 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

enhauer, sucked out of this doctrine his pessimistic
conclusion that this was the worst of all possible
worlds? One may sum up Kant's Critique of
the Practical Reason: Go it with all your might,
but you will have to go it blindly.

C. THE CRITIQUE or JUDGMENT.

We have now reached the third of the three
Critiques, in a descending order. The present
Critique was published in 1790, two years after
the second one, and is distinctly to be placed in
the period of Kant's decline. Again the title is
arbitrary and misleading, for the faculty of
Judgment is here essentially Feeling. Again the
scheme of the first Critique is clapped upon the
content in a violent and external manner. The
formalism appears to be more crushing and
capricious in this than in the last Critique.

Still we are to note what may well be deemed
an advance. Kant sees or feels that there is
still another stage or faculty of the Ego which
he has not accounted for, namely Feeling. As
he puts it, there was a gulf between the specu
lative and the practical Reason, which had to be
bridged over by a new activity of mind.
This he calls the Faculty of Judgment which
deals with the laws for the feelings of Pleasure
and Pain. Thus he seeks to find a middle link
for overcoming the deep dualism which he has
made between Intellect and Will.

KANT. — CRITIQUE OF JUDGMENT. 587

Kant divides his subject into two faculties,
which he names the Aest'hetic and Teleologic
Faculties of Judgment. Each of these he fur
nishes with an Analytic and a Dialectic, derived
of course from the scheme of the first Critique.
But into his detailed discussion of these various
parts we cannot follow him.

Thus Kant has reached the three fundamental
forms of the psychical Ego, one after the other,
in his Three Critiques. But he inverts their
order and does not see them in their true pro
cess. He places Intellect first, whereas it ought
to be third as the self -returning, self-conscious
stage. Then he places Feeling last whereas it
ought to be first or the implicit unconscious
stage. Finally the three are to be seen as a
psychical process together, which we have called
the Psychosis, and which is the real genetic
principle of mind and its science.

Thus we may say that Kant at the end of his
life-work has properly reached the starting-
point for organizing the Thought of the Uni
verse. The final thing which has been born of
his long travail is the threefold movement of
mind. This is really what has been lurking in
his struggles from the beginning — the principle
of the new epoch, which is to be psychological,
not philosophical, as he still imagines. Thus his
unconscious and unintended result is much more
significant than his conscious and intended.

588 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

We should also see that Kant is right in seek
ing for a scheme or plan common to his three
Critiques. It is true that his scheme is a mis
take, is not unfolded from within, but is exter
nally applied to a content far greater and deeper
than it is. Still from such a wrong application
of the scheme we are not to reject all schema
tism ; that would be more negative than Kant
himself, and leave us in blank chaos. The great
object in this field is to find the right scheme,
which has to evolve along with its content or
thought. Hence though we reject Kant's scheme
as such, we fully acknowledge his principle of
having a scheme as the very nerve of all organized
thought.

Here we must bring to an end our view of
Kant's Three Critiques. Again we cannot help
remarking how our philosopher unconsciously
runs everywhere into triadism in spite of his
conscious and purposed dyadism. The latter
connects him with his own Century, the former
joins him to the future. Even if he did develop
backward or downward in his psychical evolution,
he nevertheless reached bottom at last, so that he
gives us the three stages of the Psychosis
though inverted — Intellect, Will, Feeling. This
we may well regard as the final deposit of Kant's
thought.

III. KANT'S PHILOSOPHY. — In the preceding
Three Critiques we have given the fundamental

KAN T. — PHILOSOPHY. 589

movement of the Philosophy of Kant in accord
with the author's own development. Still we
might apply the Norm — Metaphysics, Physics,
and Ethics — to Kant's Writings, though such an
application of it would be somewhat external.
Kant's negation of the Norm is the deepest phi
losophical fact of him ; he made his own Norm
in the Three Critiques, rejecting the transmitted
one, and this is his revolutionary spirit in Philos
ophy. Nevertheless the transmitted Norm lurks
unconsciously in his thought while consciously
denying it, and he cannot well help himself.

The traditional Philosophy came to him chiefly
through Wolff from Leibniz. We have already
noted how Teutonic thought in the Eighteenth
Century bifurcated into two streams, the Anglo-
Saxon and the German; the former through
Locke and Hume became the dominant Euro
pean Philosophy. But the latter continued in
an undercurrent down to Kant, who assailed
it as dogmatic, and proceeded to weave into
German thinking the Anglo-Saxon thread, which
then lost its European supremacy, and vanished
through Kant into the German movement.

o

The most common statement concerning
Kant's Philosophy is that it destroyed dogmatism
and established in its place criticism. Both these
assertions must be modified. Kant may have
destroyed the old dogmatism, but he left his own,
for Kant is as dogmatic as any philosopher that

590 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

ever lived. In fact his doctrine of Will is the
very apotheosis of the dogmatic Self0 If he
sought to curtail and to limit the arrogance of
the Intellect, he turns loose the arrogance of the
Will, which is certainly worse, because more
tyrannical. Kant shows these two contradictory
elements in his personal character ; they can also
be seen in the Germany of his time, and even
of to-day. Is not Voluntarism or the primacy
of the Will its present leading Philosophy, in so
far as it has any at all?

It is likewise said that Kant established criti
cism instead of skepticism. But he holds
through all his ins and outs that man cannot
know the truth of the object. How far is such
a doctrine from the Humian skepticism? Hume's
chief assault is upon the cause or the essence
of the thing (the ousia of the on, with which
Greek Philosophy started). Kant's chief as
sault is upon the essence or being of the Ego
(the Cartesian / think, therefore lam, with which
modern Philosophy started). Thus the Eight
eenth Century ends in the voice of Kant de
nying the content of both ancient and modern
Philosophy.

Still we should not forget that both Hume
and Kant deny their denial and thus make their
own self-contradiction complete. Kant claims
to be the grand rescuer of knowledge; this
rescue is accomplished by making it ignorant

KAN T. — PHILOSOPHY. 59 1

of truth. What is such a rescue worth? The
supreme act of philosophical salvation is to save
a knowledge which does not know anything, or
perchance knows only the lie.

Yet we are to see the positive implication in
all this negative work. When Immanuel Kant
says that we cannot know God in Himself, he
tells us something about God which we are to
know, and also about his own Ego. Really he
presupposes that he can know God, and is cate
gorizing Him in and through thought. Kant is
in his way re-creating God who created him.
The underlying implication of Kant's negative
formula is that God as creative must create a
being or an Ego who can re-create Him in thought.
Such an unfolding of the implicit Kant, however,
lies ahead even of the coming Century, whose
answer to Kant's denial is Evolution, the devel
opment of the Being of the Ego or of man. For
Kant denies that thought is Being, but Evolution
shows the rise of Being to Thought which re
turns upon itself and thinks its own rise as its
true Being.

Transition. What is the essential line of
transition out of the Eighteenth into the Nine
teenth Century? The Philosophy of Limitation
is peculiarly that of the former ; Locke, Hume,
and Kant all press home to human Intellect its
limits, beyond which it cannot go without com
mitting a spiritual transgression somewhat like

592 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

original sin. To tamper with the thought
of the Absolute Kant considers to be the
eating of the forbidden fruit of the tree
of Knowledge — Kant himself laying upon the
Ego his divine prohibition as if he might
be God's vicegerent. The general formula
of the Eighteenth Century runs : The Ego-in-
itself cannot be known, nor can the Thing-in-
itself; only the phenomenal Ego can know the
phenomenal Thing. God, Freedom, and Im
mortality are outside the limits of the Intellect,
they are the forbidden fruit of Philosophy.

Now it lies in human nature old as Adam, that
man will hanker after just this forbidden fruit,
and the philosopher is no exception. Mind, the
self-limited, will begin to kick against its limits
and insist on climbing over the wall, though it be
the wall of Paradise. So it will happen that
already during Kant's life philosophers will break
over the bounds so imperiously laid down in the
Critique of Pure Reason, Such is the line of
transition which will form a process shared in by
three eminent thinkers, each of whom finds his
starting-point in one of the Three Critiques, be
ginning with the last or at the bottom.

1 . Jacobi asserts the validity of Peeling against
the Kantian negation. He accepts Kant in part ;
the Ideas of Reason — God, Freedom, Immortal
ity — cannot be demonstrated, but they can be
felt, and that is the final and all-sufficient test of

KANT. - PHILOSOPHY. 593

their validity. They are to be gotten not medi
ately, through Intellect, but immediately, through
Feeling in the form of Faith.

2. Fichte asserts the validity of Will against
the negative results of Kant's treatment of In
tellect. The Thing-in-itself can be known by
the Ego, for it is really the product of the
Ego. Here Fichte uncovers Kant's contradic
tion : if you cannot know the Thing-in-itself,
how can you say that it is the producer or the
cause of sensations? Moreover, how can you
apply to it the category of cause, which can
be properly applied only to phenomena and
not to the Thing-in-itself? The latter must be
known, cannot lie outside of the Ego of which
it is a creation. It is posited, therefore, by an
act of Will of which Fichte asserts the true
primacy, since it must go before and create the
object of Intellect. Thus he breaks down the
barrier of Intellect through Will, which is the
starting-point of Kant's Critique of Practical
Reason.

3. Schelling asserts the validity of Intellect
(in the form of Intellectual Intuition) against
Kant's limiuations of the Intellect. Schelling
in this way reaches his Absolute as the identity of
subject and object, or of the Ego and non-Ego,
which identity is above both and produces both.
Such an Absolute is the impersonal One or sub
stance, which, however, posits or creates both

o94 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Man (Ego) and the World (non-Ego). Intel
lect thus breaks down the Kantian limitation
through itself (intuitively or immediately), and
grasps the unconditioned.

This is, of course, a very brief account of these
three philosophers, each of whom has carried out
his fundamental thought into extensive works.
At present we wish to see them in their common
character of transcending Kant through Kant,
and* forming a kind of three-arched bridge out
of the Eighteenth into the Nineteenth Century.
Moreover, they as a whole turn Kant's psychical
descent in the Three Critiques through Intellect,
Will, and Feeling into a corresponding psychical
ascent through Feeling, Will, and Intellect.
But this psychical element is not pronounced, is
not explicit as a process in their case.

The next great philosopher is Hegel, who puts
the process inside the Absolute which is also the
result of a process. Hence with him arises the
idea of development, of evolution as an integral
element of the Absolute. With the dawning of
such an idea, in which the Absolute or the All
must go back upon itself and take up its own
self-unfolding, we have passed out of the revo
lutionary Eighteenth into the evolutionary Nine
teenth Century.

lart

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY—
EVOLUTION.

If we seek to express the general tendency of
the spirit of the Nineteenth Century, we shall
have to call it evolutionary. It dwells upon the
rise, the process, the history of things; its car
dinal word is Development, and its chief de
mand is to see the ascending side of the Universe.
Man, looking into the past, has been made aware
of his own self-unfolding as well as that of
everything else. His institutions have become
what they are through a progressive series of
forms or stages, each of which, though no longer
existent singly, has still its validity in the total

(595)

596 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

order. What is immediately present cannot be
understood except through its genesis in the
past.

This is in decided contrast with the preced
ing Century, which we have designated as the
revolutionary Century, which has broken with
the past, reacted against everything transmitted,
destroyed the established. Thus the Eighteenth
Century assails its own origin, rejects as utterly
worthless its own parentage, and so in the end
undoes itself. But the Nineteenth Century takes
the opposite trend : it goes back and fraternizes
with all antecedent stages of man and his insti
tutions, as being the source of itself. Thus it
is a period of reconciliation, not of separation;
it is a return to its own ancestry and a re-estab
lishment of its progenitors, putting into its own
new home all that had begotten it, rearward to
the remotest ages. The Eighteenth Century
may be deemed a descending movement, it goes
back to Nature in order to get rid of the civil
ized world in which it exists. The Nineteenth
Century shows an ascending and returning move
ment ; it seeks to rise out of Nature to itself,
and to give due validity to every intervening
stage. Down to the bottom and up from the
bottom back again are the two complementary
sweeps of the two Centuries.

I. If we look into the historical setting of Eu
rope during the Nineteenth Century, we find at

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 597

its beginning that Revolution is passing into
Evolution whose colossal product is Napoleon.
France, the creative center of this revolution
ary epoch, had begotten the new absolute
monarch by destroying the old order. Even
authority has to be evolved afresh ; if transmit
ted, it will not bo accepted. Napoleon was cer
tainly as despotic as the Bourbons. Absolutism
is to receive its seal from Revolution, not from
Legitimacy. In the world of thought the
German philosopher of this time was seeking
to evolve the Absolute which had so strikingly
manifested itself in the French Emperor on the
practical side. We shall see that Hegel on
several different lines projects an evolution of
the Absolute in deep correspondence with his
age and its occurrences. But he was not alone,
all Philosophy of the period went forth to
search in the supersensible world for the ideal
counterpart of the mighty phenomenon in the
sensible world.

Then came the Restoration of the old order, the
culmination of the anti-revolutionary movement.
The Bourbons were brought back to France
by outside power, chiefly by the Teutonic
nations, Germany and England, which had
become the great supporters of Legitimacy,
though in the previous Century they had defied
it and had given to it the hardest blows. We
recollect that England in 1688 had set aside the

598 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

dynastic right of inheritance, and that Prussia
had done the same thing in the case of Silesia.
The Teutonic and the Latin nations were still
arrayed against each other, but they had quite
changed sides. France, the Latin absolutist of
the Seventeenth Century, had sought to destroy
the national freedom of Holland, and even of
England. But in the Nineteenth Century the
Teutonic peoples interfere with the national
freedom of France by reinstating the Legiti
macy which she had cast off, and which she
persists in casting off till after more than two
generations of struggle she gets her Republic
permanently.

Now this Restoration will also find its expression
in Philosophy. There will be a going back to
former systems of thought, a taking up of previous
points" of view, a study of all the transmitted
formulations of the universe. Spirit asserts its
worth, not in denying and destroying its anteced
ents, but in seeking for and appropriating them.
It finds the truth of what it is in the whole line
of its becoming. It returns upon itself from the
very beginning, and will know itself genetically.
Philosophy really starts Evolution, not natural
science, though the latter will not be slow to do
its part in realizing the principle of the Century.
II. Philosophy remains essentially a Teutonic
discipline during the Nineteenth Century, and
in its most original manifestations it is still Prot-

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 599

estant. As long as the Latin Church has a pre
scribed Philosophy, it will feel no supreme need
of independent philosophizing. Accordingly the
two chief utterances of the thought of the
Century come from the two chief Teutonic peo
ples, the German and the Anglo-Saxon. Each
of them will give its own formulation of the one
underlying doctrine of Evolution, and each will
manifest therein its characteristic national ten
dency.

The Teutonic race having substantially united
in the grand act of putting down Kevolution and
of restoring the old order as far as possible,
proceeds next to separate into its two leading
branches, each of which has its own distinct
sphere of activity for the rest of the Century.
Germany will develop its inner strength, restore
the old imperial authority, and become the first
power of continental Europe. It will realize
the Absolute of its great thinkers. But the
Anglo-Saxon branch will choose its field of action
outside of Europe, revealing its limit-transcend
ing character by taking the whole globe as the
arena of its Will. Its call is to go beyond
the pale of civilization and deal with the
backward man. Cette vieille Europe m'ennuie,
is a reported -saying of Napoleon, but it
seems to be specially true of the English
man. He pushes forth to the less advanced
extra-European races, which he develops or

600 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

destroys. Both in the Orient and in the Oc
cident he has gone back to the primitive human
being and to primitive society, broken up their
isolation, and connected them with the world's
total movement.

The scientific Evolution of man as a creature of
Nature was properly the work of an Englishman.
The German thinker confining himself to Europe
for the most part, will set forth the Evolution of
the Spirit and its works, since these are the
supreme facts before him and his nation. But
physical Evolution lies not so compellingly in his
experience, while it may be deemed a national
question with the Anglo-Saxon governing men
in Asia, Africa, and America. Not without good
reason was Darwin an Englishman.

Ill . In this Century of Eestoration we naturally
ask: Will the philosophical Norm be restored?
We see that the previous Century neglected or
denied it along with quite everything trans
mitted from the past. The answer is, the Nine
teenth Century will restore the philosophical
Norm, but in its own special way. It will inject
into the different stages of the Norm its prin
ciple of Evolution. The Absolute (Metaphysics),
Nature (Physics), and Man (as Soul) will be
unfolded separately and distinctly in an evolu
tionary procedure. Thus we see the old Norm
restored but filled with the new thought of the
Century. There is a return t» the old philosoph-

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 601

ical order, but this order is made the bearer of a
new content.

Let us note another distinction. The great
Greek philosophers as well as those of the Seven
teenth Century embodied in their work the total
Norm in its three stages, formulating in gen
eral the Universe of God or the Absolute, Nature,
and Man. But in the Nineteenth Century we
shall find the supreme thinker developing simply
one stage of the Norm; for instance Hegel
evolves the Absolute (or Logos), while Darwin
evolves Nature (or the Cosmos) ; both being
evolutionary in their procedure. Previously the
individual philosopher possessed the Norm, now
the Norm possesses the individual philosopher.
Thus the Century itself posits the Norm with
decided emphasis, taking it out of the hands of
the philosopher who in the preceding Century
had thrown it aside and sought to destroy it. The
basic movement of the philosophy of the Nine
teenth Century in its threefold process will
therefore show the Evolution of the three
stages of the philosophic Norm, each of which
will have its own distinctive philosopher. This
is the grand philosophic restoration after the
age of revolution and destruction, the truly
spiritual restoration corresponding to that which
takes place in the political and social world.

In this way Philosophy has come to its com
plete outward expression, has made itself fully

602 M ODEEN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY,

explicit. Its fundamental process is no longer
inside the individual Ego merely, from which it
is thrown out into external existence, but the
time, not the man, has become the process and
follows the lines of the philosophical Norm in its
highest spiritual utterance. The Century itself
turns philosopher when the individual philoso
pher has renounced his philosophic birthright.
The triple move'ment of the universe (the Paui-
psychosis) which it is the function of Philosophy
to reveal to the age, now seizes upon a cycle of
Time and fills the same with itself and thereby
makes itself an outer historic reality.

IV. The great fact, then, of the Nineteenth Cen
tury, is that man has become aware that he must
return upon himself for his starting-point and
take up into his thought and life all that he has
passed through ; the Ego is to go back to its be
ginning and find its total inheritance of the past ;
in order to know itself it must know its growth,
its Evolution. Not what the man is immediately,
here and now, is the true reality of him, but
what he has made of himself from the beginning ;
this is what shows his true worth. This princi
ple holds valid not only of the Ego, but of every
thing ; we can know the object aright only by
knowing its history. Thus the Nineteenth Cen
tury is still dealing with the cognition of the
object, whose truth however can be grasped only
by seeing its Evolution, which has now become

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 603

the essence of all Being. We have often noted
that all modern Philosophy during its three cen
turies from Descartes largely turns upon this
problem of cognition. The Seventeenth Cen
tury made my knowing of the object a divine
act. The Eighteenth Century took it out of
God's hands and put it into the Ego, which soon
discovered that it could not know the object im
mediately, as it is in itself, in its truth. But the
Nineteenth Century declares : You can know the
object, perchance not immediately but mediately,
as evolved ; cognition of the truth now comes
through Evolution; you are to hunt up in every
case the history of the past and see what the
record of the thing has been. Thus you get
back of what merely appears here and now into
the essence, which has revealed itself unfolding.
The present may be only the phenomenon, but
the past in its development shows the reality.

So the Nineteenth Century will seek to seize
the process in so far as this is manifested in Evo
lution. Of course Evolution has long been at
work and in a manner known, even if not con
sciously formulated. If we turn back to the
Aryan race, or at least to the West-Aryan por
tion of it, we find that it has moved both exter
nally and internally through a long series of
stages out of Asia, through Europe, to America,
An unconscious impulse to push on, to be pro
gressive, to go West has now become conscious,

604 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the principle of the Century, the formula of its
Philosophy. One may well ask: Why just now
does this principle of Evolution break through
into universal consciousness? Primarily on
account of an inner necessity, which we have
already tried to trace. But we may add that
this mighty Aryan migration westward has seem
ingly reached the limit which Nature has placed
upon it, having struck the Rocky Mountains and
the Pacific, which barrier has halted it, deflected
it, turned it back upon itself. The fact may well
be deemed a racial crisis ; having surged forward
several thousand years at least and run up against
the obstructing wall of Nature, the whole race
can well turn back and look at its entire career
of development, thereby becoming conscious of
its own innermost spirit of Evolution and formu
lating the same in its fundamental thought
expressed by Philosophy. In all the great
philosophic movements of the past we have gen
erally found an outer necessity corresponding
with the inner compelling power of the Spirit.
So the Aryan man in the Nineteenth Century has
to return upon himself within and without, has
to discover and formulate for himself what he
really is through seeing what he has been, quite
from the beginning not only of human but of
animal existence.

Thus the Nineteenth Century must be not
simply evolutionary, but consciously so. It

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 605

reveals the Evolution of Evolution ; the process
of the ages is no longer implicit, the soul of the
race is no longer unconscious in its profoundest
movement, but self-knowing. Not without draw
ing from the deepest fountain of his race's spirit
did the greatest philosopher of the Century pro
claim the Absolute to be self-knowing.

V. The philosophic movement of the Nine
teenth Century is dominated by three leading
thoughts, which, though distinct, make a process
together. That is, the one principle of Evolu
tion shows itself in three main forms, which are
at bottom psychical. The same general fact we
noticed in the two preceding Centuries. In each
of them also the fundamental process of Thought
embodied itself in a personal Triad of the greatest
philosophers. In the Nineteenth Century Hegel
and Darwin are the supreme heroes of Evolution ;
but the third person of the process is not so
manifest at present. Perhaps the sifting of Time
will bring him out. The third, and latest doc
trine, however, has undoubtedly appeared, and
is to be assigned its true place. Its name, how
ever, is still fluctuating; we shall call it Physio-
psychisni, though a more common designation is
Physiological Psychology.

The Nineteenth Century may be said, there
fore, to manifest its chief philosophic function in
evolving Evolution through the three stages of
the Norm — the Absolute, Nature, and Man.

606 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

These stages we shall briefly designate in advance
as follows : —

1. Hegel — representing metaphysical Evolu
tion, though he calls it logical, the Evolution of the
Logos or of Reason both in itself and in every
thing else. This also is named the Evolution of
the Absolute, or Spirit evolving itself through
itself. That is, Mind or Intelligence unfolds
itself into and through its own forms expressed
in categories.

2. Darwin — representing physical Evolution,
which has quite monopolized the use of the word.
In this stage Evolution becomes visible, explicit
in an ascending order which is manifest to the
senses, and is outwardly separated into a vast
multitude of shapes. The Logos now really
appears (particularly in Biology or in the forms
of organic existence), throwing itself out into the
natural world. This stage (Darwinism) is thus
the separative one in the total sweep of the Cen
tury's Psychosis, and deals specially with the
second stage of the philosophic Norm, namely
Nature.

3. Physio-psychism — representing the Evo
lution of the Soul (or Ego) in its reactions
against the determination of Nature. An inner
energy of an organism is seen unfolding itself
through outer manifestations which arise from
external stimulation. This hints a return, even
if partial and imperfect, out of Nature toward

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 607

self-conscious Eeason. Thus it suggests, as far
as it goes, the third stage of the philosophic
Norm. Physio-psychism gives in its way the
rise of the soul through its past inherited forms
which can often be made to show themselves by
experiment. This can also be called Evolution
ary Psychology and may well be deemed the
preparation for the completer Psychology which
has in it not merely the ascent but the self-
returning principle of the Ego.

In the sphere of Natural Science, therefore,
the Nineteenth must be deemed creatively the
biological Century, as we have had hitherto the
mechanical (Seventeenth) and the chemical
(Eighteenth) Centuries. The three in them
selves form an evolutionary process, in which
we behold the third stage making Evolution its
principle, which shows the Science of Nature re
turning upon itself and tracing its forms from
the beginning, and therein striking mightily the
fundamental note of the Century. More em
phatically than even before does this Science of
Nature now assert itself as a necessary stage of
the philosophic Norm, and proceed to rival if
not to outstrip its metaphysical brother in affirm
ing and formulating Evolution as the Century's
principle.

VI. Evolution takes for granted an immanent
principle in Spirit and in Nature which unfolds
through itself and projects its manifold forms

608 MODEEN E UHOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

in gradation. The question rises, whence comes
this principle, this formative energy? Evolution
does not answer such a question, but assumes
the mentioned principle and points out its trans
formations. Thus something lies back of Evo
lution and sets it going, propelling it into its
onward career. Evolution therefore cannot
fully evolve itself ; given its start it moves ahead
to its end which somehow must get back to the
beginning. When Evolution has evolved that
which can return and evolve its starting-point or
its principle, a new sphere is reached beyond
Evolution, beyond the Nineteenth Century.
For we must see that Evolution, of its own in
herent nature, has to evolve out of Evolution;
it cannot stay with itself but must push beyond,
till by its own inner movement it pushes beyond
itself and then it is no longer strictly Evolution.
When it reaches the end which returns to and
makes the beginning, when it has evolved the
principle which it starts with, then it is no
longer an ascending evolutionary line but the
total circle. Evolution is therefore, dialectical.
When it has evolved that which evolves it as a
conscious process, it has passed into a higher
principle of which it is but a part, a stage, a
moment.

What is this higher principle which Evolution,
working in the Nineteenth Century, has forced
into existence, and which, after being thus

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 609

brought forth, has swallowed its own parent? We
have often said in a general way that the Nine
teenth Century evolves Evolution ; but what is
it that evolves itself evolving Evolution? Evi
dently the evolutionary Ego in its supreme creat
ive act has unfolded itself unfolding everything
else, has evolved itself evolving Evolution, and
has become conscious of itself as an integral part
of this total process of Self-evolution. Where
with we have landed beyond the Nineteenth
Century into the new order of which the careful
reader has noted hitherto many an indication.

Such is, however, the secret unconscious germ
sprouting, growing, evolving in Evolution itself,
which must at last, if it be true to its principle,
show itself to be an evolutionary stage in its own
complete Evolution. But we have already indi
cated that this Century of Evolution has several
stages, the study of which must be our next
object.

39

610 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

\. IbegeL

The Nineteenth Century has closed, and Hegel
still remains its greatest philosopher. It is
declared that he is completely dethroned in his
own country, but certainly no other man there
has taken his place. Moreover his influence has
gone beyond national limits, even beyond Euro
pean limits, and his thought has shown itself to
be universal. Of course his doctrine has met
with strong, often bitter opposition; but just this
opposition indicates its strength. In a supreme
sense he is the last philosopher of Europe. To
be sure, since his time it has produced more
philosophers than ever before, but no peer of
Hegel. One of the interesting facts of the time
is that when he was rejected by his own people
his spirit seemed to pass over to the practical
Anglo-Saxon, both in England and in America,
with whom it has found a new birth. Accord
ing to a recent estimate taken from the opinions
of a number of competent and unbiased judges,
Hegel is still the most influential philosophic ,
thinker of our time.

Hegel is, however, but a stage of the greater
cycle of the Nineteenth Century, of which he
was not conscious.* He could not know what
was to come after him and was to make him an

HEGEVSLIFE. 611

element of a larger process. Still less could he
be aware that his whole Century, after develop
ing into its entirety, was to show itself but a
part of the complete movement of Modern Phi
losophy.

Yet Hegel, more adequately than any other
philosopher, has developed the idea of the cycle
both in his own system and in all systems of
thought. To be true to him in the deepest
sense we shall have to unfold him as a portion
of a vaster svveep than lay in his consciousness.
Yet really we are thus applying to him his own
principle. On the other hand, such a treatment
militates with his claim of being the absolute
philosopher. But this dualism lay in Hegel, in
deed it lies in all philosophy, of which Hegel is
in one way the last expression. Underneath him
and often controlling his thought unconsciously,
was working the deeper principle of the coming
time and the new world. This deeper principle,
unknown to the author yet determining and
finally breaking up his system, is what the ex
positor of to-day, looking back through a vista of
quite one hundred years, is chiefly to bring forth
to the light.

Hegel was conscious of the philosophic Norm,
and embodied it after his manner in his system ;
but he was not conscious that his whole sys
tem was only the first stage of the vaster and
profounder evolution of the philosophic Norm

612 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which the total Century was working out to its
conclusion. For this Norm is no longer simply
inside the thought of the individual philosopher,
but his thought is inside of it, since it is the
movement of the Century itself, which has now
turned philosopher, and is philosophizing after
the pattern of the philosophise Norm. When the
Eighteenth Century in its thinkers had denied the
truth of God, Nature and Man, the Nineteenth
Century takes up the theme afresh, and estab
lishes it through its new principle of Evolution.
This opens with Hegel. We must, therefore,
keep in mind that the evolutionary idea of the
total Century is afar vaster thing than Darwin
ism, which, however, is a very important stage
of it.

We shall next seek to give an exposition of
Hegel as Whole in himself, for this he was too,
though he was likewise but a part or a stage of a
totality greater than himself. Three forms of
utterance, the philosopher has: his Life connected
with his Time — his most immediate, instinctive
expression; his Writings, which demand a sepa
ration of himself within and an external projec
tion of his thought into outward forms; his
Philosophy which is his deepest Self organized
along with his Time more or less distinctly after
the philosophic Norm.

I. HEGEL'S LIFE. — About one-half of Hegel's
years belonged to the Eighteenth Century, the

HEGEVS LIFE. 613

other half reach nearly a generation into the
Nineteenth Century. The latter is of course his
mature period, the time of fruitageand fulfillment.
But the former is his stage of acquisition and
inner development. His growth moves on a line
with a great, perhaps the greatest modern epoch,
the French Eevolution, which seems to have
mirrored itself with all its changes in his youth
ful soul. As his life in Time makes the grand
transition out of the Eighteenth into the Nine
teenth Century, so does his thought in Philoso
phy.

Though Hegel's life is cut in twain by the in
coming &Century, we shall find that the second
half, whichis the time of his active, ripened spirit,
contains two very distinct epochs. Hence we
shall divide his life as a whole into three sepa
rate Periods, through which every complete,
rounded-off career seems to pass, in one form
or other.

1. First Period (1770-1801). Most biog
raphers of Hegel have emphasized the impor
tance of his transition to Jena where he arrived
in January, 1801. It was a great external change,
and with it corresponded an internal change
which soon began to show itself. From a pri
vate tutorship which brought him into con
tact chiefly with immature minds or left him
wholly to himself, he passes to being a public
instructor in a University, whose society and

614 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

work call forth all his latent powers. He has
had a long time of apprenticeship, of appro
priation: now begins a time of creation, of for
mulating, organizing and imparting what he has
won from others and from himself. The main
points of this First Period we shall briefly note.
George William Frederick Hegel was born the
27th of August, 1770, at Stuttgart, the capital of
Wurternberg. His father was an official of State
and seems to have had little influence upon the
son. More interesting is the fact that an ances
tor some two hundred years before had left his
native country, Carinthia, on account of religion,
and had settled in Suabia which had become Prot
estant at the Reformation. Many of his descend
ants were clergymen ; we see that our philosopher
had inherited a religious strand, which, however,
had in it the original dissent of Protestantism.
Hegel will hear the new protest of the age, not
religious but political, and will not fail to give
his response. In his seventh year Hegel was
sent to the Gymnasium of his native town, where
he remained till he was eighteen. He there made
his first acquaintance with the Greek world which
was destined to exercise so great an influence
over him during his whole life. Particularly the
works of Sophocles he read and absorbed ; from
them he seems to have drawn his first concep
tion of the spirit of Hellas. Hegel may well be
deemed a re-incarnated Greek ; no other modern

HEGEL'S LIFE.

GL5

man, not even Goethe, has so deeply penetrated
the Hellenic view of the world. This became
tin anchor to him throughout all his later fluctu
ations. He also read books belonging to the new
German literature then arising; he partook of
the spirit of the time with its revolutionary
tendencies, quite the opposite of the classical
repose of the old Greek. This dual culture,
implanted in him already at the Gymnasium, he
will retain to the end of his career.

During this early period also his teachers
noticed a hesitation in his speech, .a mumbling
and stammering over words in his delivery, as if
there was something in him that refused to come
out clearly, something deeper than language,
which persisted in remaining within his spirit.
It is recorded by his friendly biographer (Rosen-
kranz) that Hegel not only spoke but wrote with
difficulty to the last. His industry sought to
conquer this obstacle by making extensive ex
cerpts from the authors whom he read, a habit
which began with him in the Gymnasium.
Hegel's books often show this primal struggle
with human speech, which compels him to resort
to the strangest compounds and combinations
for the utterance of unutterable thought.

At the age of eighteen Hegel went to the
University of Tubingen, for the purpose of
studying Theology. Little satisfaction he ob
tained from the direct instruction of his teachers.

616 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

But he kept up his Greek studies, and started to
work seriously upon Kant. Indeed, Philosophy
began secretly to get the upper hand, and to take
the place of Theology, which he will philosophize
in time. Hegel as a student could be jovial, he
could upon occasion do his share of drinking,
fencing, riding; but on the whole he was not up
to the mark, since his comrades nicknamed him
(he old man on account of his sedateness. Still
he was not too old to be inaccessible to the tender
passion, and to break into poetry over beautiful
Fraulein Hegelmeier, daughter of a former
professor. But it seems that he could not per
suade the German maiden to cut off the uncomely
queue to her name and be called simply Hegel,
and so was condemned to a long bachelorhood,
the poor fellow !

During this time another instructor entered •
the University of Tiibingen and roused the

students to the highest pitch of enthusiam

nothing less than the French Revolution. The
year after Hegel's entrance, the States-General
met in Paris and opened the series of events
which constitute a new epoch in the World's
History, and which are deeply interwoven with
the life and thought of our philosopher. In
1790 trees of liberty were planted throughout
France; the fashion crossed the Rhine and
appeared among the students of Tubingen.
It is said, though the report is not adequately

BEGEVS LIFE. 617

authenticated, that Hegel and his friend Schelling,
also a student of Tubingen, planted a tree of
liberty in German soil. One thing is certain:
Hegel, already in a protest against the established
Theology, becomes revolutionary; he reads
French newspapers, French patriotic literature,
especially he devours Eousseau. The Eevolution
rushes on apace; in 1792 occurs the battle of
Valmy, in which republican France hurls back
her Teutonic invaders, and which Goethe marks
as the dawn of a new era. In 1793 Hegel ends
his course at the University ; this same year saw
the French king beheaded and the Reign of Ter
ror, the character of which left its traces upon
him through life. It is recorded that he was a
member of a political club and did not fail to
express his sentiments in favor of liberty, equality
and fraternity for all mankind.

The training of such an epoch is greater than
that of any University. Through his strong
sympathy with the French Revolution, Hegel
transcends the limits of nationality and makes
himself European. It is an instance of the dis
cipline of self-estrangement ; spiritually he sepa
rates from his own immediate environment and
becomes French and republican, for a time at
least. It is a preliminary schooling to that uni
versality which he is to formulate in thought.
The negative Eighteenth Century, with its assault
upon the established and transmitted, he is to

618 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY

experience in its final supreme, destructive out
come. The past, with all its forms, is to be
reduced to an appearance, to become a line
of phenomena, of which Hegel will hereafter
write the science (in his Phenomenology). He
becomes himself the negative process of the
French Revolution ; its Dialectic seizes him and
whirls him through its remorseless stages till he
turns and seizes it, making himself its master in
his thought. Thus he will pass out of Revo
lution into Evolution, out of the Eighteenth into
the Nineteenth Century, out of Kant into Hegel.
To this point in his career we have not yet
come, though we must now emphasize the revo
lutionary Hegel and his experience at Tubingen.

In 1793 he enters upon a new phase of his
First Period, the tutorial, which lasts seven
years or more, till he reaches Jena. He goes to
Switzerland, where he remains three years as
tutor in a high-born family. During this time
he studies zealously, his chief topics being The
ology and History. Nor is Philosophy neglected.
In fact, he is philosophizing Theology. But he
grows tired of his solitary life in Switzerland ;
he wishes for more books, for literary and
philosophical intercourse. Accordingly, in 1796,
he quits Berne and returns to his native Stuttgart
for a brief visit.

Once more he takes the position of tutor in a
private family. To this end he goes to Frank-

HEGEL'S LIFE.

619

fort in 1797, where he finds congenial com
panions, and stays another three years and more.
Here also he devotes himself to study. Espe
cially he works at the thought of the State.
He writes a political pamphlet pertaining to the
constitution of his native Wurtemberg. In this
pamphlet he distinctly shows the two opposite
principles struggling within him. On the one
side is the Social Contract of Rousseau with its
stress upon the individual ; on the other is the
Republic of Plato (which he studied at Frank
fort) with its absorption of the individual into
the State. The modern French and the ancient
Greek principles are both present and at work
in Hegel who thus reveals the dualism in him
at this time. He is still revolutionary, but with
a growing conservative reaction. In this he
follows instinctively the movement of the period ;
at the excesses of the Revolution all Europe
and France herself had grown reactionary.
These excesses were simply the final outcome
of the Eighteenth Century which in them was
manifesting its negative character to the point
of self-negation. In the depths of his own spirit
Hegel was working through this experience
of the age, whose inner movement he will here
after grasp and formulate in writing as the
Dialectic.

But the distinctive fact of his stay at Frank
fort is that he definitely works out and appro-

620 MODERN E UR OPE AN PHIL OSOPHT.

priates the philosophic Norm. Undoubtedly this
came chiefly from his study of Greek Philosophy.
Plato and Aristotle show the threefold Norm —
Metaphysics, Physics, arid Ethics — and after
them it becomes the conscious possession of the
Greek thinkers. How it dominates the Philos
ophy of the Seventeenth Century has been
shown in the First Part of the present work.
How it was lost in the Eighteenth Century, and
was assailed by Kant has also been set forth.
But now comes the philosopher who recovers it
and will make use of it hereafter. To be sure,
Hegel will not simply go back to the old Norm
and reproduce that; on the contrary, he will fill
it with the new thought of the age, after a good
long struggle, however. The protesting, revolu
tionary Ego on one side, on the other the trans
mitted Norm are the two recalcitrant elements
which it is his philosophic function to unite.

Rosenkranz has given a pretty full account
(see his Hegel's Leben, s. 99 et seq.) of this
Norm, which he calls Hegel's System. The out
lines are as follows : —

I. Logic and Metaphysic. These Hegel has
not yet brought into complete unity, which he
will do later. But through the mass of thoughts
struggling to organize themselves we can see
many a coming category and even triads of cate
gories taking their permanent position in the
future order. It is surprising how much of his

HEGEL'S LIFE. 621

later work can be found here arranging itself by
a kind of inner evolution around independent
centers of development.

II. Nature (Physics). Another surprise meets
us when we find what an elaborate Philosophy of

Nature Hegel has wrought out so early in his
career. He has already its later main divisions into
Mechanics, Physics, and Organics. This sounds
modern, but the old Greek thinkers, here also
furnish their contingent; especially do we catch
the note of Plato in his Timceus (as Rosenkranz
observes).

III. Spirit (Geist). This is really a system of
Ethics in the large Greek sense, embracing both
the moral and institutional principles. It is what
he will call later (in the Encyclopedia) Objective
Spirit. In this sphere will occur some of Heo-el's
grandest results. Already he has begun to see
and to formulate the meaning of Institutions
(Family, Society, State), and to incorporate
them in his Philosophy. Here lies largely his
vast positive contribution to the Nineteenth
Century, for it was the distinctive character of
the Eighteenth Century to deny and to destroy
Institutions.

Such is Hegel's first appropriation of the
Norm which makes him a philosopher, and which
runs through all his works. It had been evolv
ing slowly for a long time, especially from his
study of the History of Greek Philosophy. Now

622 MODEEN E UEOPEA N PHIL O SOPHY.

he has seized it and uttered it, at Frankfort about
1798-9. Hereafter he will write out two other
explicit statements of the Norm — ten years later
in the Propaedeutic, and then after another nine
or ten jears in the Encyclopedia.

With this Norm his soul, deeply fermenting,
and partially expressed but longing for still
completer expression, Hegel feels that he has
something to add to the Philosophy of his time.
Accordingly he prepares to quit Frankfort and
the tutorial business forever. A small sum of
money left him by his father, who had died in
1799, will fortify him against want for a time.
In his crisis he writes a very suggestive letter
(which is still extant) to his friend Schelling
who has acquired great fame at Jena. The pur
pose of this letter as we make it out (see it in
Eosenkranz Hegel's Leben, s. 142) is that Hegel
wishes to come to Jena, for he too has been
"driven forward to Philosophy," and has
" transformed the ideal of his youth into a sys
tem," which he evidently wants the opportunity
to propagate. To be sure Hegel says not a word
about coming to Jena, on the contrary he speaks
of going to Bamberg and asks his friend for
some addresses there. But Schelling manifestly
reads the letter aright between the lines ; the re
sult is, Hegel appears at the University of Jena
in" January, 1801, and enters upon a new epoch of
his philosophical career.

HEGEL'S LIFE. 623

2. Second Period (1801-1818). These seven
teen years are the creative time of Hegel, who
now writes his main works and goes through the
various stages of his inner philosophical develop
ment. He brings to Jena his revolutionary Ego,
though much toned down from his Tubingen
days, for he has also appropriated something
transmitted, notably the philosophic Norm. Thus
he shows two tendencies quite opposite, which are,
however, to seek reconciliation in the coming
Period. That revolutionary Ego of his, first of
all, is to become evolutionary, to which it has
already some inner leanings, especially through
his study of the History of Philosophy.

Let us first note that Jena when Hegel entered
it in 1801, was the center of a great intellectual
movement, the most original in Europe. Fichte
was already gone, but had left his influence;
Schelliug was there in the bloom of his philo
sophic power; and now Hegel comes. Nor must
we forget that in Weimar not far distant Goethe
and Schiller were in the full splendor of their
genius. The Romantic school in the two preced
ing years had concentrated at Jena, and then had
gone forth to conquer Germany and even Europe.
But the philosopher of. Romanticism, Schelling,
was still on hand, and with him Hegel at once
formed a close alliance.

There is no doubt that Hegel at first absorbed
deeply this Romantic movement. It gave

624 MODERN1 EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

validity to the Ego and nourished the same for
the wildest flights; it also went back to the
past and sympathized with the Art, Literature,
and Philosophy of former ages, reconstructing
the Medieval Period, translating Shakespeare,
Calderon, Plato, and even digging up the old
Hindoo world in the Valley of the Ganges. This
historic sympathy Hegel shared, and Komanti-
cism was one of the currents (but not the only
one) which carried him over into his evolu
tionary stage whose presence soon began to show
itself in his work at Jena.

The transition of Hegel to Jena was not a
mere individual act of his, but was in a way
representative of the time. The new-born
German spirit was collecting itself for a great
coming effort of expansion. Kant on the north
eastern border of Germany, had begun the reju
venation of Philosophy, which through his chief
disciple, Fichte, had come to Jena, the heart
of the country. From the opposite direction,
from the southwestern portion, the two young
Swabian philosophers, Schellitig and Hegel,
had now reached the same center. From the
periphery of all Germany there was a gathering
of the intellectual heroes of the age in one

spot that spot was the little territory of Jena

and Weimar. Hegel felt the pulsation of time,
and joined the stirring centripetal movement of
the spirit, which surged inwardly and outwardly

JJEGEVS LIFE. 625

through the land. Of course all this multitude
of great men could not stay long in the little
University. They came there and drank of the
fountain which had burst up to the surface at
that point from the deepest hidden sources of
the Teutonic spirit. Then they went away to
impart what they had received. As before
stated, the leading Komanticists (the Schlegels
and Tieck) were already gone; two years after
the arrival of Hegel (1803) Schelhng took his
departure. Hegel himself held out till 1807,
winding up his career there with the publication
of the Phenomenology of Spirit, in which he
not only abjures but undoes Romanticism.

During the six years Hegel passed through a
variety of subordinate phases. At first he was the
disciple of Schelling, and the two in conjunction
established the Critical Journal of Philosophy,
which published a number of Hegel's earlier
writings. There was, however, a deep difference
between them. They might agree upon the doc
trine that there was an Absolute, but concerning
the nature of this Absolute they disagreed
fundamentally. Schelling makes it a processless
identity above all separation ; Hegel sees every
where the process, even in the Absolute. Hegel
is becoming more and more evolutionary, while
Schelling postulates dogmatically his first princi
ple, out of which everything flows, or emanates
in a Neo-Platonic way. Moreover the characters
40

626 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of the two men are quite opposite. Hegel ma
tured slowly, step by step, in a true evolutionary
manner; he had reached middle age before his
first original book was published. On the other
hand Schelling was suddenly ripe, before he was
twenty-one; his philosophic precocity is, we
believe, without a parallel. He was a dynamic,
explosive genius, not a gradually developing one,
emanative like his Philosophy. Five years
younger than Hegel, he had already done his
chief work in Philosophy, when the two began
their co-operation at Jena. The two souls had
to separate, going in opposite directions : the one
being emanative (descending), and the other
evolutionary (ascending). Schelling leaves Jena
in 1803 whereby the spiritual separation becomes
spatial, and their journalistic union is also dis
solved.

Four years more Hegel remained at Jena,
working out his philosophical problem. He gave
courses of lectures to the students of the Uni
versity, the number of hearers being small.
Rosenkrauz has published the topics of some of
these lectures (Hegel's Lehen, s. 159), which
evidently circled about the philosophic Norm —
Logic and Metaphysics, Philosophy of Nature,
Philosophy of Mind. We also hear of other
subjects, for instance the Aesthetic (1802), and
the History of Philosophy (1805), and the
Phenomenology (1806).

HEGEL'S LIFE. 627

This last title gives the clew to what he had
been chiefly doing ever since his separation from
Schelling. The Norm which he had brought
from Frankfort had furnished the main material
for his formal lectures, but his mind and his
heart had been occupied with an evolutionary
work, the Phenomenology of Spirit, which
appeared in 1807, showing all the stages of the
evolution of Spirit to the culmination in the
Absolute. Development (Entwiclcelung) is the
pivotal world which Hegel himself employs to
designate this work, its whole movement being
in the form of an ascent from the lowest stage
of human consciousness to the highest. It is
thus a kind of overture to the coming Century
whose key-note it strikes from the start. More
over it is deeply connected with the condition of
Europe at the time of its composition, especially
with the career of Napoleon, who seemed to
Hegel during these years as the incarnation of
the Absolute.

After leaving Jena in 1807 Hegel became
editor of a newspaper at Bamberg. Hardly a
greater change can be conceived for the author
of the Phenomenology which is spun out of the
finest gossamer threads of thought, so fine that
it requires a subtle mind to see them at all.
Napoleon kept his hand upon the journalism of
Southern Germany; no editorials or reflections
were allowed. Hegel had simply to gather items

628 MODERN E UBOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

and write them out. But imagine him springing
at a leap from the Absolute to an item in a, news
paper. As he once treated reality as an appear
ance, so now he has to treat appearance as a
reality. And he himself is now hardly more
than an appearance. During this time he like
wise began to formulate a constitution for Ger
many, in which his political interest is at least
indicated. But after a year's service he obtained
a new place which comported better with his
genius.

In 1808 he received a call to go to Niirnberg as
rector of its Gymnasium, in which position he
remained eight years. Hegel now found the
quiet which enabled him to think out and for
mulate his Philosophy. During this time he
produced two main works. One was the Propce-
deutic, in which he gave a brief summary of
Philosophy for his pupils, following the phi
losophic Norm which he had already elaborated at
Frankfort. The other was his Logic, doubtless
his greatest production. This also is essentially
the Evolution of the Absolute, as we shall see
later. The work is in three volumes, the first of
which appeared in 1812, the last in 1816. Thus
it starts when Napoleon was at the height of his
power and concludes with his fall and evanish-
ment from Europe. Such was the fate of the
incarnate Absolute, " the World-Spirit on horse
back."

HEGEUS LIFE. 629

While at Niirnberg our philosopher got
married, aged 41. Marie von Tucher, a daugh
ter of one of the patrician families of the citv,
accepted the hand of the schoolmaster, who
thereupon overflowed again into verse, sweet
enough in words but often pretty rough in meter
(see some of it in Eosenkranz' Life of Hegel).
A well-bred, cultured lady, a friend of Jean
Paul, and somewhat addicted to romanticism,
which Hegel disliked; it was probably this topic
upon which they once had a little spat, for
which we read a humble apology made to her by
Hegel, humbler than he ever made afterwards to
any man, for the absolute philosopher actually
confesses to a failing. But let us celebrate the
glorious event ; it is the first wedding which the
reader has been present at among all these great
est modern philosophers; Descartes, Spinoza
and Leibniz of the Seventeenth Century, Locke,
Hume and Kant of the Eighteenth Century —
not one of the whole set was ever married, but
kept Philosophy tainted with a kind of monkish
celibacy. Hegel, however, starts a new era for
Philosophers by his marriage, though a little
tardy about it (possibly on account of that first
set-back from Miss Hegelmeier). But now he
goes to work philosophizing mightily ; the next
year the first volume of his Logic is finished and
printed, a book not to be read like a love
romance.

630 MODERN' EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

No Formal Logic of the Schools is this of
Hegel ; it deals not merely with the Form of
Thought, but with the inherent movement of the
Matter or Content. Not the abstract Forms but
the Pure Essences (reine Wesenheiten) which
produce reality are the theme, showing " an
immanent development" or inner evolution
ascending to the Absolute. Hegel calls his
Logic "the exposition of God as He is in His
eternal essence before the creation of the
world." This statement shows his transition
from the Theology to Philosophy, his great
struggle being to define " God or Absolute
Spirit." To this supreme goal we shall find
him, when we come to his written works, taking
three different roads, each of which is laid down
in a book.

Such was the noiseless inner development of
Hegel at Niirnberg. It was not his nature to get
into conflict with the existent order, being
therein different from Socrates, even from
Fichte. He was inclined at present to accept
the established institutions and to account
for their existence in the world — no longer
revolutionary but evolutionary. He, the abso
lute idealist so-called, is also supremely the
philosopher of reality. His attempt is to
bridge this widest and deepest chasm of Spirit,
whose dualism has plagued Philosophy from the
beginning. Has he made the nexus? A ques-

HEGEL'S LIFE. 631

tion not to be answered now, but in the end we
shall see.

Hegel was hostile to the use of tobacco, he
would declaim to his pupils on the danger and
filth of the weed, but would take a pinch of snuff
during his tirade. His papers lay scattered upon
his desk in utter confusion to the eye of the
housekeeper, though in his vision they must
have constituted an image of the cosmos, con
sidering what an universal order came out of
them afterwards into printed books. Hegel
could also drink his quota of wine, and one of
his questions concerning a city to which he
thought of moving, was, Has it good beer? We
should also note that at Niirnbcrg Hegel passed
for a friend of Napoleonic domination, and he
sought to break up anti-French agitation among
his pupils by turning their German patriotism
back into old Greek Homer and the Trojan War
for an outlet.

Chiefly in consequence of the fame of his
Logic Hegel obtains three calls to Universities —
Erlangen, Heidelberg, Berlin. Inasmuch as the
call to Berlin was coupled with a doubt concern
ing his delivery ( Vortrag) and a request to rec
ommend himself, our philosopher took a fit of
spleen and answered somewhat gruffly: "I am
already engaged in Heidelberg." This on the
whole was a good move for Hegel. He was not
yet quite ready to go teethe center of philosophic

632 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Germany, not till he had written his Encyclo
pedia. For at Berlin he is destined to turn
down an entirely new road of life, for which he
ought to have a little more quiet preparation.
Not yet, cry the Fates of existence, two years
more of inner development in this placid South
Germany, and then we shall snip in twain every
thread which holds thee back.

Consequently Hegel becomes professor at
Heidelberg (1816-1818), where according to one
of his letters the rule was, " Every one for him
self and the Lord for us all." Not brilliant was
the beginning: " At one lecture I had only four
hearers." But the number gradually increased.
Probably Hegel reached at Heidelberg the depth
of his introspective nature, since " he often for
got entirely the external world. ' ' Students pass
ing by his house would usually see him " at the
window gazing toward the distant mountains and
forests as they swam in the hazy atmospbere."
Crossing the street after a shower he left his
shoe sticking in the mud and went home without
noticing his loss. Evidently he is being whirled
through that circular movement of his Encyclo
pedia, from whose theoretical abysses he is next
to rise into practical life at Berlin. We must add,
however, that while yet in Heidelberg he took
part in editing its Jahrbucher, a periodical for
which he. also wrote an important article on

HEGEL'S LIFE. 633

Jacob! . A journalistic thread ran through
Hegel's whole career.

But the incarnate Absolute, " the World-Spirit
on horseback," what has become of him, Na
poleon Bonaparte, from whose destroying might
Hes;el barely saved the last pages of his Plienom-
enologij) a book devoted to evolving just that
Absolute? On the small island of Saint Helena,
far from Europe, confined to a little speck of
earth rising out of the Ocean he consumes his
heart guarded by his inveterate foe. So he in
his turn has become the victim of that remorse
less Dialectic of Evolution of which he so long
was the mighty wielder. The colossal human
Reality which reduced the world to an Appear
ance has himself become an Appearance in the
presence of a mightier Reality. The pyramids
themselves seem to be capsized in this grand
overturn of the Absolute in person. What will
the philosopher of Reality do, our Hegel? Ad
just himself to the new order ; what else can he
do? The Reality knows better than any philoso
pher unless the philosopher knows the Reality.
The hour strikes for this change, the grand re
adjustment in his career which is accompanied
by a change of place in deepest correspondence
with the new demand of his spirit and of the
time. Hegel is now to pass to that center
whence chiefly proceeded the overthrow of

634 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Napoleon, and his coming function is to philoso
phize the new World-Spirit there arisen.

3. Third Period ( 1818-1831 ). At last came
the unconditioned call to the University of Ber
lin, and Hegel leaves his limited field at Heidel
berg for the central institution of learning in
Germany. He was 48 years old, he had laid the
deep foundations of his system theoretically;
now he is to realize practically his Philosophy,
not only propagating it and making it the prin
ciple of a great School, but even embodying it in
the State. Before the Berlin Period he had few,
if any, followers; his thought was a conception;
but now it is to put on reality, and is to become
a great power in the world. It nor he will fail
to manifest its inherent character. The Phi
losophy of the Absolute will show itself the
Absolute Philosophy ; the original love of wis
dom (Philosophia) will become wisdom herself,
divinely appearing unto men in person. In true
accord the Philosopher of the Absolute will
assert himself the Absolute Philosopher, auto
cratic, imperial, Philosopher over all other phi
losophers (Philosopharch), and for a while
will influence the spirit of the existing State,
converting it into a government through Phi
losophy (Philosopharchy).

The key-note of this Third Period he sounds
distinctly in his opening address at Berlin, dated
Oct. 22, 1818. " The World-Spirit has been so

HEGEUS LIFE. 635

much occupied and turned outward " in putting
down Napoleon and re-ad justing Europe that " it
has been restrained from turning inward and en
joying itself in its own peculiar home. ' ' But now
all this is changed, and " the time has come when
in the State the realm of thought also is to
nourish alongside of the government of the actual
world." What State is it? " This State which
has taken me up into itself," this Prussia has
risen to the great new height of incorporating
Philosophy as " an essential element of its politi
cal life." Moreover the work is to be done at
this University of Berlin, truly " the University
of the center " of- all Germany, at which center
Hegel the philosopher has now arrived, being the
voice of that World-Spirit "turned inward"
with profound self-contemplation. In such lofty
consciousness of his present position Hegel
speaks throughout this brief discourse, feeling
his harmony with the time and the country ; after
much wandering he has at last reached the cen
ter and recognizes the fact. *• Philosophy has
fled to the Germans " from the rest of Europe;
then from the periphery of Germany it has con
centrated itself at Berlin j quite as we saw in
antiquity its centripetal sweep from the rim of
Hellas to the central Athenian city, culminating
in Aristotle who also had his affiliations with the
dominant Macedonian State.

How much Hegel has changed his former atti-

636 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

tude, we may see by what he now says of Napo
leon, whose " foreign soulless tyranny'1 has
been destroyed by " the mighty struggle of
the people in conjunction with their Prince."
Yet that was the Napoleon whom only a dozen
years ago Hegel saluted as " the World-Spirit on
horseback " scattering the wretched Prussians
from the battle-field of Jena like chaff before
the whirlwind. This change we do not bring up
as a reproach to Hegel ; it was no inconsistency
but the natural evolution of the philosopher of
the reality; natural indeed, was the evolution,
but very rapid, for the times were rapid with
which Hegel, to be true to himself, had to keep
pace. The Absolute, at first, was incarnate in
Napoleon, the conqueror of Germany; but Ger
many has wheeled about and, putting down its
conqueror in its turn, has taken up that Absolute
into itself, making the same now internal. Par
ticularly has Prussia done this, and hence calls
Hegel, the philosopher of the Absolute, to its
central seat of learning, where the World-Spirit
is now " to turn inward and to enjoy itself in its
own peculiar home." Thus the Absolute is
made real in the State, and in addition is made
personal in the philosopher himself, not simply
in his thought, but also in his disposition, in his
temper, even in his gesture, if report be true.
No blame again ; he could help his own char
acter, he could not stop his own evolution ; given

HEGEVS LIFE. 637

his absolute Philosophy, he had to absolutize
himself, when he had fully evolved.

The thirteen active years of the Berlin Period
will therefore be Hegel realized. His specula
tive work is substantially done ; he brings with
him his system worked out in thought and
theoretically completed, even if not yet fully
finished in all its details. A great advantage is
that he carries to his new home his Philosophy
organically set forth in printed books, which can
be put into the hands of his followers and
studied at leisure. He writes no books at Ber
lin with the exception of a brief manual for his
students on the Philosophy of Right, composed
during his first two years.

The activity of Hegel at Berlin was varied and
turned in many directions. The pent-up desire
for practical life after so long a period of mental
incubation went forth out of him like an explo
sion. If his previous years had been chiefly a
time of intense inner concentration, at present
there is the opposite tendency. His thought has
been organized through and through, now his
function is to apply it, to make it real. Or we
may say that hitherto Hegel has sought after
and formulated the Universal, which he is now to
particularize in all details. The leading points
of this multifarious activity we may set aown
as follows : —

(1) There is no doubt that Hegel took great

638 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

pleasure in being an official of the State at Berlin.
Of course his chief positioa was his professor
ship in the University. But he accepted other
offices, especially in reference to education.
These culminated in the rectorship of the Uni
versity which he held the year before his death.
It may well be a question, however, if his ad
ministrative life improved his Philosophy or his
temper with his absolute tendencies. Neverthe
less both Hegel and his thought became a reality,
and a commanding one, through his officialdom.
(2) At Berlin Hegel turned out supremely the
lecturer. Very wonderful was his activity in this
line as we may see by the number and variety as
well as length of the courses which he gave. It
became the fashion of the city to hear Hegel and
to Hegelize everything and everybody. For once
Philosophy was popular, and the crop of imita
tors, apostles, of Hegelian prophets true and
false, that sprang up along with a clamorous
opposition made a philosophic tumult the like of
which had never before been seen. Moreover
we can plainly observe that Hegel sought to
popularize his previous concentrated doctrine
and to bring it within the range of the average
intellect. His books of the Berlin Period edited
by his special apostolate after his death from his
lectures ( Werke, VIII-XV) show his effort to
make himself understood in hundredfold exulana-
tions, illustrations, amplifications, repetitions to

HEGEL'S LIFE. 689

the last degree of pedogogical endurance. What
a mighty hammering took place in that smithy
of the strong-boned philosopher upon the refrac
tory brains there before him ! The twelve labors
of Hercules seem small in comparison. We can
still see him puffing and struggling and stammer
ing, as if he could hardly get the right word out
since it lies so deep ; emphasizing his favorite
category when it does emerge from the philo
sophic abysses with a peculiar intonation in broad
Suabian dialect which had a dash of grotesquery
on the Berlin ear; hemming, hacking, coughing
between his periods on account of that eternal
catarrh which seldom fails to plague the South
erner in a northern atmosphere. All reporters
agree that Hegel's external delivery was not
good. It was like his nomenclature, it had to
be broken into and be seen from within ere it
could be understood and finally enjoyed. To be
sure the philologists could not make much out
of Hegel's peculiar language and cannot to this
day. W. von Humboldt spoke of Hegel's " help
lessness " and "obscurity of manner." He
thought in Hegel's case that " speech did not
break through," but remained in a kind of im
plicit condition. Prophetically this was a big
miss, since Hegel's utterance has proved itself
eternal, peculiar as it is. Undoubtedly it has to
be mastered, for it is a kind of new language
which Hegel had to create as the adequate vehicle

640 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of his thought. He did not take and could not
take merely the established German of his time ;
he had to go back to the first source of his
mother-tongue and make it over in proportion to
his needs. Every great philosopher and every
great poet does the same, and therein manifests
his primal creative power, his born command
over his own native tongue at its original foun
tain-head.

(3) Thus Hegel sought to plant the seeds of his
thought in the mind of the greater public. But
he had also his inner set of followers, the eso
teric circle of deeper students whom he looked
upon as the future defenders and progagators of
his doctrine. There is no doubt that Hegel at
Berlin intended to found a School of Philosophy,
as did his Greek predecessors at Athens, Plato
and Aristotle. He deliberately proposed to lay
the foundations of his system in the best minds
he could gather about him, and thus to make his
doctrine eternal, a kind of inner askexis which
was to be handed down in aline of initiates from
generation to generation. But there was no
secret rite, no mummery, no mystery connected
with this school, which was based upon the clear
self-conscious Intellect. Thus Hegel becomes a
Scholarch at Berlin in addition to his other
activities.

This purpose of his was soon observed (he ap
parently did not try to disguise it) and brought

HEGEL'S LIFE. 641

down upon him a good deal of opposition from
various quarters. Other philosophers deemed
such action very improper. Especially Schleier-
macher was outraged by the awful misbehavior
of Hegel in trying to establish a School of Phi
losophy at Berlin, and endeavored to keep him
out of the Academy, it is said, on account of his
persistent School-making (Schulmacherei). Yet
Plato founded a School, and Schleiermacher was
the translator of Plato and chief modern propa
gator of the Platonic doctrine. The example of
the old philosopher was not to be followed in
this respect, it seems; still Hegel kept up his
propagandism and met with great success. It
must be taken as a mark of transcendent power
that he was able to bring together so many capa
ble men into a School and inspire them with
his own thought as well as with a consecration
of their lives to its development and propagation.
(4) During this last Period Hegel shows the
tendency to go back to his former writings,
revise them and publish them afresh. He was
working at a new edition of the Logic when he
was overtaken by death ; also of the Phenome
nology he had planned another edition. Of the
Encyclopedia two editions were issued at Berlin.
Thus at the end he returns to the beginning,
completing in his own life that cycle which he
has traced through the whole universe. In fact
his lectures, which we may call his unwritten
41

642 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

books hereafter to be written, did not originate
in content or in structure at Berlin ; they were
reproductions of parts of his system already
thought out and organized in his previous
Periods. Theoretically Hegel at Berlin returns
upon himself and realizes what was before this a
conception, an idea, a scheme more or less naked,
and waiting to have its clothes put on at the first
good opportunity, which has now arrived.

Still Hegel felt the difference between his
present and his past. He was not the same
man or the same philosopher altogether at Berlin
that he was at Jena twenty-five years before, or
at Niirnberg. In the prefaces to his new editions
we can hear the changed note, sometimes
amounting to an undertone of dissonance with his
former self, and yet this is on the whole skill
fully concealed. Of course in the deepest sense
it was the same absolute Hegel from beginning
to end, but with the most emphatic evolution out
of the thoretical to the practical Absolute, out
of the introverted to the extroverted, out of
the writing to the acting philosopher.

(5) We must not neglect to mention Hegel's
journalistic activity at Berlin. Largely through
his influence in 1827 a new periodical, the Jahr-
bucherfur Kritik was founded. He wrote arti
cles for it, one of his pupils was its editor, and
it was recognized as mainly devoted to the prop
agation of the Hegelian Philosophy, which

HE GEL'S LIFE. 643

through it was sown over Europe. Hegel had
always manifested journalistic leanings. He
had been twice editor, at Jena and at Bnmberg,
and had schemed various journalistic enterprises.
Still his intellectual life had been a concentrated
one, unified and organized in books, and not
scattered in bits through periodical literature.
The Berlin Period, however, is such a scattering
of his productivity, realizing itself in manifold
particular forms, even in magazine articles, re
views, criticisms, the ephemeral record of the
ephemeral. Such is his present centrifugal
tendency; his flight is no longer toward the
central sun of his universe, the Absolute, but in
the opposite direction toward its separated par
ticulars, toward the mutiplicity of the real world,
toward the farthest periphery of the Hegelian
solar system.

(6) We must also ask: What influence had
the practical Absolute upon the man in his out
ward dealings with his fellow-man? Biographer
Eosenkranz, friendly but honest, feels that herein
too he must, though regretful, set down the truth.
"Even with his friends Hegel often fell into bit
ter conflict." "The strong unbending charac
ter" allowed not the least opposition from his
associates ; let any disciple dare have an opinion
of his own and even gently assert it, the storm
would gather in a minute and lightning would
strike the audacious rebel. " He had a great

C44 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

power of wrath and scorn;" he was a bitter
enemy, and "when he once began to hate, he
did it from the bottom." Any difference from
the Absolute deserved the thunderbolt, and usu
ally got it on the spot. " In a fit of scolding he
was fearful " (Leben, s. 362). " He whom Hegel
laid hold of " (anfasste — we suppose this means
with his tongue and not with his hands) " began
to have a knocking of the knees, like a school
boy," and while the tempest raged, " all those
present crowded down together in terror." Cer
tainly this Absolute is realizing itself with a ven
geance. But what becomes of the individual in

o

its presence? Scattered, burnt up, annihilated
as if before the pantheistic God Himself.

It is satisfactory, however, to note that there
was somebody at Berlin who dared oppose even
the Absolute, and to remand it "to its proper
bounds " — to limit the Unlimited. Varnhagen
von Ense, valiant protagonist against the actual
Napoleon in bloody war, has now to enact a
similar part against this new philosophical Na
poleon, who has again captured Berlin. Varn
hagen has left us a notable account of a skirmish

o

with Hegel: "At the founding of the Berlin
Jahrbiicher I had often to take sides against
him, and this the more decidedly as I was the
only one who had no personal end in view " —
really the old soldier was the only one pre
sent not afraid of Hegel, " who in the course

HEGEL'S LIFE. 645

of the transaction was always becoming more
obstinate and tyrannical. At last he began to
behave himself in such a manner at the meet
ings that everybody felt that the enterprise
could proceed no further. Then it fell to me to
take him in hand and to point out distinctly
what limits he had to observe." So Yarnhagen
actually puts limits upon the Absolute then and
there: whereat an eruption takes place as if the
whole inside of the Universe sought at once to
get outside and vent itself " in a bitter conflict
of words conducted by both of us with asper
ity." Who cannot imagine the old war-horse
rising up to his full stature, with an instinctive
thrust of the hand to his side, where once hung
his sword, as if making ready for a charge?
"But no dishonorable word was spoken," cer
tainly not by the courteous Varnhagen, for he
was incapable of it, nor by Hegel, who now felt,
seemingly for the first time, that the Absolute
also had to ' ' observe limits. ' ' After the meeting
the company sat down to a supper overspread
with an ominous cloud ; but let the outcome be
at once chronicled : joyous reconciliation in which
the combatants " embraced each other while tears
stood in his (Hegel's) eyes. After that we had
no more conflicts." Thus at least when Varn
hagen was around, the Absolute " observed its
limits" (Rosenkranz, Hegel's Leben, s. 392).
In these records of the closing years of Hegel's

646 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

life, wnen he was the philosophical autocrat of
Prussia, we are often reminded of the picture of
the aged Lear, in whom Shakespeare has por
trayed the disease of unlimited authority, the
grand malady of the Absolute working in the
finite individual. One more case, for the in
structive point must be enforced. Leopold Guns,
professor of Jurisprudence in Berlin University,
was a devoted follower of Hegel, and after the
latter 's death became editor of two of his most
important books. Gans recommended to his
pupils Hegel's work on the Philosophy of RiyJit,
his motive being unquestionably to advance the
cause of his master. But Hegel took the act as
patronizing effrontery on the part of a disciple,
and wrote an exceedingly angry letter, « * composed
of a single period " to Gans, demanding retrac
tion. What does it all mean? The absolute
temper has realized itself. Gans intended recog
nition, but just that seemingly was the insult.
Hegel has become like Napoleon who said at the
peace of Campo Formio : " The French Republic
(i. e., Napoleon himself) needs recognition as
little as does the Sun in Heaven" — a declaration
cited admiringly by Hegel himself (in his Recht
if we remember rightly). But this " single
period " contained the last words Hegel ever
wrote. We cannot help reflecting that the Ab
solute is, in the above instance, personally con
summated. To what greater height can it ascend

HEGEL'S LIFE

047

when it no longer needs human recognition?
Such is the outcome of the last stage of Hegel's
life. It, too, was an evolution. Says Kosen-
kranz (s. 383): "In his later time he re-acted
with violence (against any mention of his mis
takes or defects), and from now on began to have
a real lust for domination." The same spirit is
seen in his last essay of importance, that pertain
ing to the English Keform Bill.

°Hegel died of cholera at Berlin, November
14th, 1831. On the whole, the theoretical
Heo-cl is a much nobler subject of contem
plation than the practical Hegel. His official
life was not the best for him as philosopher.
Administration developed the unhappy side of
his nature, or, we may say, of the Absolute itself,
which became more and more regardless of the
individual till it approached an Oriental despot
ism. His Berlin Period was reactionary in the
deepest sense, not only against the French Kevo-
lution, but against the Spirit of the Age, indeed
against his own World-Spirit. This is not saying
that Hegel, the splendid philosophic genius, in
the fullness of his powers, did not produce much
excellent work during these years. But his
Prussian life of officialdom and success is to our
eyes on a descending plane to the end. Let us,
however, close the account of the finite mortal
element of a great man and hasten to consider
his immortal part.

648 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

II. HEGEL'S WRITINGS. —The life of Hegel,
in its external events, would already have passed
out of memory unless he had written books,
which show what the man was at his highest.
Through these he now lives and probably will
live forever. To this portion of his activity we
shall, accordingly, devote our chief effort. What
Hegel wrote is for us properly Hegel himself,
and quite all of him. His books have been a
prolific source of other books, have indeed pro
duced a Hegelian Literature, whose stream has
by no means yet dried up; witness, for instance,
the present attempt.

The Writings of Hegel are of considerable
bulk, of varied contents, and are scattered
through many years. But their depth far out
strips their length or their quantity ; they are
peculiarly difficult, compared even with other
philosophic books; the effort required to read
understandingly a product of Hegel calls forth
the mind's strongest tension, and it must often
be repeated.

If, therefore, we multiply length by depth, or
the number of Hegel's books by the labor of
reading them, we have here a greater mass of
writing than any other man of the past has pre
cipitated upon posterity. Lope de Vega, Alex
ander Dumas, Mrs. Southworth have each
written several times more pages, but these are
on the surface, not one inch thick, usually; but

HEGEL'S WETTINGS. 619

Hegel's superficies, even if much smaller, reaches
to the center of the earth, yes, to the center of
the universe. Thus the inside is enormously
greater than the outside, and the reader must be
ever alert to see not merely this little fragment
before him, but in it to behold all, in the part to
view the whole of which it is a part and which
makes it a part.

Hence looms up portentously the question :
How shall we organize this vast work of the
man, vaster than the pyramids, and infinitely
more complex in arrangement? For it claims
to reflect the Universe with all the intricacy re
vealed by the microscope and all the magnitude
revealed by the telescope. Recollect it is not
now the purpose simply to order one book of
Hegel ; that he has always done himself ; nor
is it to put his books in a consecutive line with
an account of the contents of each of them,
one after the other. The far greater problem at
present is to organize Hegel himself as a colossal
philosophic totality ; to order all his books as one
great book which he did not and could not order
himself, this being possible only to some one
coming after him and looking back at the en
tire sweep of his career when it is closed if not
completed.

We, therefore, from our retrospective view
point in the following Century, must see Hegel,
great as he is, as a part of a process greater than

650 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

himself, in which he is to take his place and by
which he is ultimately to be judged, Still we
shall find in him unconsciously that greater pro
cess of which he is but a part, else he could not
be a part of it ; the mighty totality of the en
tire Nineteenth Century is lurking in him every
where and even the mightier totality of the
Twentieth Century can often be felt throbbing
in his creative soul unborn but Avith many a dis
tant premonition of its approaching birth.

Hegel's Writings, therefore, will be seen to
form a cycle which he did not and could not
make of them as a Whole but which he did
make of each book by itself, and also of the
sum total of sciences in his Encyclopedia.
But just this Encyclopedia, the cycle of the
totality of science, is itself only a part or stage
of even Hegel's entire work, and a still lesser
part of the Century's movement. Hegel's Writ
ings have been published in 18 volumes, which
for our present purpose we put into three
classes. (1) Several volumes are miscella
neous, containing reviews, articles, essays, etc.,
and representing the journalistic side of Hegel's
activity. (2) The complete books which he
wrote himself — unquestionably his greatest
works, of which all the rest are applications and
amplifications ( Werke in II-VII chiefly). (3)
The third class is made up of the complete
books edited by his pupils (VII1-XV, the largest

HEGEL'S WRITINGS. 651

part in bulk). These are the Writings which
extend through nearly thirty years of Hegel's
life, and which we shall seek to organize and un
fold in their inner cyclical process. This we
shall formulate in advance as follows : —

I. The Evolutionary Hegel ; the Evolution of
the Absolute as the outcome and end of Philos
ophy ; the philosopher rises to the First Prin
ciple or Essence of all things in its immediate
form. To this Absolute, as end to be attained
by an evolutionary movement, there will be three
roads described separately in three of Hegel's
most important books.

II. The Encyclopedic Hegel; the Evolution of
the Absolute as the Norm of Philosophy, which
is cyclical in itself and in all its separate stages.
Thus the philosopher throws his thought into a
round of cycles self-separating and self-return
ing in each and in the whole. This we may
deem the second stage of the total Hegel, as
his Absolute now divides within itself and shows
itself as process which is his total Philosophy.

III. The Philosopharch Hegel; the Evolution
of the Absolute realized, which is now applied
and made practical in the world, passing out of
Intellect into Will. Hegel, intellecually the ruler
of the Absolute, now becomes the absolute ruler
practically in his sphere (of course not without
opposition) ; thus the philosopher becomes the
Philosopharch (an unheard of thing in the

652 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

World's History, and hence requiring a new
name). In this last stage we may see a return
to the first one, to the absolute Hegel, who there
a thought, here becomes a reality, the actual
Absolute incarnate and at work in his realm.
Such is the cycle of Hegel's own Evolution as
manifested in his writings and here given by way
of preparation in brief shadowy outline which is
to be filled in with the details of the later exposi
tion.

Thus out of the theoretical Absolute has
evolved the practical Absolute, or the Ab
solute has become absolutistic. The Napoleon of
Philosophy succeeds the Napoleon of the State ;
the World-Spirit seated in the professorial chair
has taken the place of " the World-Spirit on
horseback." The whole movement is evolu
tionary or developmental, though it has within
itself also the cyclical movement as an element
counteractive yet therein propelling. This double
process united in a third we shall often find
formulated by Hegel ; but now we are to see it and
formulate it as the process underlying his whole
career to the end.

We should note again that before the evolu
tionary Period Hegel had a revolutionary Period,
that part of his life and thought belonging to the
Eighteenth Century, through which he had to go
in its last and most complete negative act. Such
an experience lies back of him and prepares him

HEGEL'S WETTINGS. 653

for his great work ; he must overcome negation
and reduce it to a moment or an element of
his thought, in which it will appear as the Dia
lectic, that subtle, elusive principle which gives
his readers so much trouble to catch and hold.

In various ways we may imagine this colossal
sweep of Hegel's Spirit in his Writings: the
ascent in thought from the finite world to the
Absolute; then the whirl of it including all things,
each in a whirl (or process) ; finally the descent
or the going-back to the finite world in action
with the authority of the Absolute. Or we can
in a general way designate the entire movement
in its three stages as the centripetal, the circu
lar, and the centrifugal. But enough of thevse
preliminary metaphors ; only at the end can we
look back to this beginning and observe whether
the before-mentioned cycle of Hegel's work is
justified, whether we can see three Hegels, yet
one and a process.

654 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

I. THE EVOLUTIONARY HEGEL.

This is Hegel striking the key-note of his Cen
tury, evolving and formulating the Absolute as
evolutionary . Both these terms apply to him ;
we might also name him the absolute Hegel dur
ing this period.

It may be said that all Philosophy is a search
for the Absolute, the First Principle, the Es
sence of things (the ousia of the on as the old
Greek put it). The truly philosophic Ego by its
own inborn nature can have no peace till it
find the imperial thought of the universe and
formulate it in a category. Hegel may well be
deemed the final outcome and culmination of
this tendency from the beginning of Philosophy ;
he is supremely the philosopher of the Absolute
explicity unfolded and aifirmed in its most com
manding phase.

Herein is suggested what is the peculiar ele
ment in Hegel's Absolute; it is evolutionary.
Evolving and itself evolved he shows it ; thus it
is the fundamental principle of his Philosophy,
and becomes the first great stage of his Century's
thought. Indeed the Evolution of the Absolute
is Hegel's own Evolution. What else could he be?
Is it not his mind, his self which is evolving this
whole evolutionary process? Hence, we may
also consider this first stage of Hegel's original

THE EVOLUTIONARY HEGEL. 655

thinking as the absolute Hegel, or the philosopher
evolving the Absolute as the fundamental princi
ple of the All.

Now Hegel in the present stage (as evolution
ary) moves toward his goal along three different
lines ; he penetrates to the center of the Universe
from three different directions upon three sepa
rate radii as it were, passing from three distinct
starting-points. These three diverse roads to the
Absolute are represented by three diverse books
describing the journey, which books may be
rightly considered Hegel's greatest, most origi
nal productions, since they are specifically his
creative ones, the genetic source of what is dis
tinctive in his Philosophy, which really develops
out of these three books. They are the following.

A. The History of Philosophy has an histo
rical setting, and shows a line of many philo
sophic Egos, each with his principle or system,
in successive Evolution through the ages, till the
Absolute as self-knowing Self is reached. The
start is made from the first philosopher with his
principle.

B. The Phenomenology of Spirit has a psy
chological setting, and shows one philosophic
Ego evolving a line of many successive forms or
stages of consciousness, which are stimulated by
the outside world till the Absolute as the self-
knowing Self is reached. The start is made from
the first act of sense-perception in consciousness.

656 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

C. The Logic has a metaphysical setting and
shows a line of pure Thought-forms or Essences
which the absolute Ego evolves in its movement
from its most abstract to its most concrete sta^e,
which latter is the Absolute as self -knowing Self
( Hegel's absolute Idea) . The start is made from
the most abstract thought of the Absolute
(which with Hegel is Pure Being).

We have said and have tried to indicate in
the preceding formulations that these books are
three roads to the same goal, the Absolute. Yet
they are internally connected together, and be
long to one man's evolution at three different
stages, and thus constitute a psychical process in
themselves. The History of Philosophy is more
immediate, being in Space and Time, with a row
of Spirits declaring their doctrines. But the
Phenomenology has a row of phenomena thrown
out of himself (separated) by an individual
Spirit, while the Logic has a row of the Pure
Thoughts of the Absolute Spirit chiefly as they
have appeared in Time, and thus is a return to
the historical element. These preliminarv state
ments will, we hope, be explained and confirmed by
the following detailed discussion of these three
books.

A. THE HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY.

This is the work which we place at the begin
ning, since it may well be deemed the foundation

HEGEL'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 657

of nil Hegel's philosophizing. The History of
Philosophy was his chief education in Phi
losophy, the genetic discipline underlying all
his works. Out of it he unfolded the three basic
principles which he worked over and over again
through his whole career: the Evolution of
Thought, the cyclical movement of Philosophy,
and the philosophic Norm. It may also be said
that the History of Philosophy overarches
Hegel's philosophic life from beginning to end.
We can find traces of the study of it during his
student years at Tubingen. In Switzerland it
was not neglected in his historic reading, but
particularly at Frankfort the History of Philoso
phy seems to have been his favorite and most
deeply studied and appropriated discipline. It
was there that he probed the depths of Greek
Philosophy and assimilated its riches, so that
when he passed to Jena he soon felt himself
ready to give a course in the History of Philoso
phy. This took place in 1805-6, and opened
his academic career in the present branch. At
Heidelberg he repeated this course twice, once
during each of the two years of his stay. At
Berlin the record runs that he gave six full
courses on the History of Philosophy, and was
engaged upon the seventh, in the fall of 1831,
when, after two lectures of the course, delivered
" with the greatest flow of discourse, death sud
denly called him away" (Michelet).

42

658 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Hence, we repeat that the History of Philoso
phy is the arch spanning Hegel's philosophic
activity from inception to conclusion. From his
first University lecture to his last upon this sub
ject intervenes a period of more than twenty-five
years, a period embracing all of his great books,
which we may imagine dropping down out of
various portions of this celestial bow. The His
tory of Philosophy was what chiefly made Hegel
a philosopher, given his inborn tendency and his
time ; hence it should be placed first in a genetic
or evolutionary view of his Works.

But while the book has this general relation to
all the books that v follow it in succession, it
has also a special relation to the Phenomenology
and the Logic as the Evolution of the Absolute
in Philosophy. It thus directly represents a
phase of the evolutionary Hegel, as we call him in
the present stage, Hegel evolving the Absolute
(or absolute Knowing) as his ultimate principle
of Philosophy. It is properly the first one
of the three lines on which he moves to his
supreme thought. The History of Philosophy
shows this movement in Time which brings
forth the successive systems of philosophers
from the beginning till they reach the self-
conscious All, the Absolute of Hegel. It is a
line of persons with their doctrines, usually but
by no means always, arranged in threes — the
Triad being not yet so fully explicit as it be-

HEGEL'S HISTOEY OF PHILOSOPHY. 659

came later. Thus we may consider it specially
Hegel's personal Evolution, in which he turns
back to the first appearance of philosophers
(say that of Milesian Thales), and beholds them
personally evolve in their doctrines till himself
who is the absolute philosopher and so the goal
of the History of Philosophy, the end of the
line, which in its whole length shows how he got
to be as philosopher. In this way he becomes
aware of his own Evolution, and thereby of all
Evolution, Philosophy being the absolute, all-
inclusive science. He is the philosopher who
has in. him the Evolution of all the other philos
ophers as his principle, which is the Absolute
turning back to the commencement and taking
up the entire line and thus becoming self-
conscious, that is, knowing itself as evolutionary.
So Hegel, truly called the philosopher of reality,
starts with Philosophy as a reality immediate,
existent as a fact before him, and unfolding in
Space and Time. (There are three volumes of
this History of Philosophy which we shall cite
in order as I, II, III, which in the original
Wtrke are XIII, XIV, XV. A translation has
been mado by Haldane.)

I. We should note, however, that Hegel's History
of Philosophy is chiefly the History of Greek Philoso
phy. He has, indeed, something to say upon the
medieval and modern Periods, but it is less hearty on
the whole, and shows itself often to be a mere com-

660 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

pilation. Of the three volumes the first and second,
and a small part of third are devoted to Greek Philos
ophy ; that is, almost two-thirds of the entire work.
But when we come to execution, style and love of the
theme, the difference is far greater than that indi
cated by quantity. It is evident that Hegel dwelt
upon the Hellenic world with a peculiar inborn de
light, as if he might be an old Greek re-incarnated.
Utterly mistaken is the explanation of editor Michelet
that " on account of a want of time the author had to
be briefer toward the end than at the beginning,"
since the hours allotted to the course were exhausted.
If Hegel had loved modern Philosophy as he did
nncient, the preponderance could have been just as
well the other way.

It was the History of Greek Philosophy, then, from
which Hegel received his primal philosophic training.
Indeed we notice a marked difference in his unfolding
of the different periods of Greek Philosophy. It is
very plain that the second or Hellenistic, and the
third or Alexandrian periods attracted him much less
than the first, extending from Thales to the death
of Aristotle. This first period takes up more than
twice as much space as the other two put together
and here again we may note a corresponding difference
in style, in interest, and it must be added in knowl
edge of the subject. Now this first period of Greek
Philosophy (we call it the Hellenic — see our Ancient
European Philosophy') is the genetic period or Evolu
tion of Philosophy itself as the chief European Dis
cipline. Philosophy not only begins but passes
through its first complete cycle (from Thales to Aris
totle), which primordial cycle may be justly deemed

HEGEVS I1ISTOEY OF PHILOSOPHY. 661

the creative source of all other philosophies and philo
sophic cycles rising afterwards. At this first gush of
the philosophic fountain of the ages Hegel drank,
drank long and deeply at an early time and kept
going back for repeated draughts during his whole
life: he was standing by this fountain and dipping
from it for his pupils ''when death suddenly called
him away."

The History of Greek Philosophy particularly of
the First Period (the Hellenic) remains a permanent
contribution to the present subject, even if it too is in
the grand Evolution and h as to be re- written There
is a buoyancy about it which deeply corresponds to
the theme, to the age, to the people — to that youthful,
joyous Hellenic soul whose fresh breath still re-vivifies
old Europe, which has to go baek thither for new life
or Renascence. Hegel- went back and constructed
one of the best roads to that hsfppy land of the past.
Still we have at last to cry out to him and to Europe :
You must go forward to your New World, riot back
ward ; the coming renewed youth of man lies ahead of
you in Space and Time, not to the rear.

There is, however, a completeness about Greek
Philosophy, a finished character, rounded off and
artistic in its form, which makes it a lasting
means of all noble education. A plastic character
it has, like a statue of Phidias. Something of
the instinctive Greek Spirit Hegel certainly has,
and he also has and knows its inner contradiction
through which it is at last to perish. Hence
comes the fact that the tragedy of the Hellenic world
Hegel has felt and portrayed more sympathetically
and more profoundly than any other known man an-

662 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

cient or modern. We should say that the literary
culmination of the History of Philosophy, if not all of
Hegel's Writings is his account of the trial and
death of Socrates, which he calls the tragedy of
Athens, typical and prophetic of the tragic outcome of
the entire Greek world. Moreover from the fate of
the Athenian philosopher he derives the very nature
of all Tragedy in its aesthetic character: tfc two ethical
principles fall into conflict, each goes to pieces through
the other" (II. 103). The conflict of Socrates was
essentially that of conscience against law, that of the
inner right of the individual against the outer right of
the State. Both sides have their justification, yet
both are in a sense wrong ; the two grapple and
usually perish together. Hegel will show that the
great Athenian tragic dramas, particularly the
Antigone of Sophocles, spring from such a collision.
In this field Hegel has idone an eternal work. One
thinks that he must have written out this conflict of
Socrates when he was himself balancing between the
two sides, when he might have been tragic himself
either way, so sympathetic is he with both. Thus the
account itself, in spite of its philosophic thought,
becomes highly poetical in spirit if not in form ; it is
the Socratic tragedy, not only in its immediate poetic
action, but at the same time knowing itself as tragic
and telling the reason why. Hegel's own collision
reflected in his beloved Hellas we may here in a
measure see ; but later he will be more decided, he
will lean to the Absolute as supremely embodied in
the State and vindicate complete submission to its
authority on the part of the individual.

II. But at this point a difficulty presents itself.

HEGEL'S HIS TOBY OF PHILOSOPHY. 663

An impression is left from many an essay and treat
ise upon Hegel and bis Writings that the History of
Philosophy is bis latest and most mature production.
This impression is confirmed by the fact that in the col
lected edition of his Works the History of Philosophy
is put the last in the order of bis great books. At Ber
lin indeed Hegel was zealous in lecturing upon this
theme as already stated. But the work was sub
stantially written at Jena when he gave bis first course
there in 1805-6. The following is the statement of
his editor Michelet : " The Jena manuscript is the
only one we possess, executed by bis own band, and
set forth in a finished style almost throughout." Of
this he wrote a brief abstract while at Heidelberg.
"All the additions that be made during the succeed
ing courses (at Berlin) he either jotted down on the
margin of these manuscripts or on pieces of paper
inserted between their leaves, and containing his ran
dom thoughts in a sketchy manner." The introduc
tion, however, was re- written at Berlin probably
several times in part. So we have in the book two
main portions : the Jena manuscript which "presents
the simple abstract conception of the matter," and
the later additions which " contain its development."
Thus the Jena manuscript " furnishes the foundation,
or, so to speak, the skeleton upon which the more
juicy flesh of his later thought had to fasten itself."
From these statements it is evident that the History
of Philosophy was in substance composed at Jena and
delivered as a course of lectures, though there are in
the book many interpolations of his later thinking.
Moreover editor Michelet throws out the observation
by the way that Hegel " may have acquired his point

664 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of view" from this study of the History of Philoso
phy, to which he devoted so many courses of lectures,
and that " it may furnish the best key for the under
standing of his whole Philosophy." (Geschichte der
Philosophic, Vorrede, for all the cited passages.)

We are, therefore, safe in considering the History
of Philosophy as Hegel's earliest written book from
an independent standpoint. To be sure he had com
posed essays and studies before this, considerable in
number and length ; but they belong to the period of
his apprenticeship, of acquisition and preparation.
Already in 1803 he had shown his dissatisfaction
with the Philosophy of Schelling whose disciple he was
during the first years of his Jena career. But what
caused him to transcend Schelling? No doubt his
inner genius responding to the spirit of the age ; but
this genius of his was powerfully nourished and cla
rified by deep meditation upon the philosophical de
velopment of all ages. It is fair to conclude that by
means of the bistory of Philosophy he broke through
his revolutionary into his evolutionary Period, and was
thereby born again, becoming now an original phi
losopher with his own fundamental principle.

On the other hand we are not to forget that in the
present book are expressions taken " from every epoch
of Hegel's philosophic culture," as the editor confesses,
who nevertheless uses the Jena manuscript " as the
foundation " to which the rest is added. We cannot
always tell to what period of Hegel's development a
given citation belongs, though we may be sure that it is
Hegel's. Ordinarily this is enough for our purpose.

III. Thus somewhere toward the beginning of the
Jena Period we place Hegel's History of Philosophy.

HEGEL'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 6G5

This is acknowledged to be one of his greatest works,
and has retained its influence down to the present
time. It was not printed by Hegel during his life,
though he must have intended its publication by the
care which he has given to the style of certain por
tions, as well as by the fullness of expression, which
at times becomes quite rhetorical.

The History of Philosophy was doubtless the chief
source whence Hegel derived his idea of spiritual Evo
lution, which became a dominating principle with him
during his stage we call evolutionary. Still he by no
means neglected the other grand factor of his system
which had come down to him from Greek Thought and
of which he seems to have become fully conscious at
Frankfort. This is the threefold philosophic Norm,
upon which we have already dwelt. Two tendencies,
then, we find in Hegel during the present time,
which we may name the evolutionary and the cyclical.
The former is his original philosophic act, is that which
gives him his great place in Philosophy. The latter, the
cyclical, indicated by the word Encyclopedia, is his
inheritance from Plato and Aristotle, and hints the
circular movement in which philosophic thought
has always expressed itself where it has reached
a high degree of completeness. But now the
addition of the fundamental idea of the Nine
teenth Century, that of Evolution, is to take place;
this idea is to show itself in its first germinal form as
thought, and is to interweave itself into the philosophic
Norm of the past. Such is the process which begins
to ferment in Hegel at the present epoch of his career ;
the Spirit's unfolding for 2, 500 years in aline of philo
sophic systems he is to knit into the inherent cycle of

666 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

all Thought. These two tendencies, we say, run
through this entire stage in repeated struggles, and
in repeated reconciliations.

We hold, then, it is the History of Philosophy with its
succession of principles and systems which suggests
most emphatically the idea of Evolution of the Spirit.
The outer historic sequence of these Forms of
Thought lures the inquiring mind to look within them
and to find the secret source of their connection and
order. It is also to be observed that such a History
of Philosophy brings to light not merely one phase of
the philosophic Norm, but many such phases in a
consecutive line, so that the Evolution of Philosophy
is a series of shapes or embodiments of this philo
sophic Norm, till the final, all-inclusive one be
reached. The Evolution, therefore, is not through a
row of fixed forms, but of processes, each of which
has within itself the cyclical movement, and is at the
same time a part or a stage of the great evolutionary
movement outside of itself. So Hegel is to labor at
bringing into harmony two opposing tendencies, the
new and the old, the evolutionary and the cyclical,
the developmental and the encyclopedic ; the progress
of the sciences must be seen to be cyclical, and the
cyclus of sciences (the Encyclopedia) must be seen to
be progressive. Accordingly our philosopher as the
discipline of his coming career, grapples with the
History of Philosophy which shows the two foregoing
opposite elements in their primal manifestation.

IV. At this point a question rises: Why should the
thought of Evolution so emphatically spring out of the
History of Philosophy just at this time? For Phi
losophy had been known to have a history since Aris-

HEGEL'S HISTOEY OF PHILOSOPHY. 667

totle at least, and this history had been studied and
put together, as we see in Cicero and in Diogenes
Laertius, for instance. And why is just this Hegel
the chosen man, the herald of the new idea? The
answer to the first question lies in the character of the
age. It was the time of the French Revolution, in
which Form after Form, especially of Government,
appeared and vanished with a rapidity which made
Evolution the most impressive, yea, oppressive fact
of the period. Concentrated into a few years was
the development of many -ages just at this time, and
upon every receptive mind it then stamped itself with
a power which is surely not to be effaced from
the future history of the race. In the philosophic
mind, like that of Hegel, it led to philosophizing, to
working out and formulating the inner principle of
such a marvelous development. Co-incident with the
movement of his period, Hegel could look back upon
a considerable development of his own individual life.
These are the prime conditions, historical and per
sonal, under which our philosopher studies anew the
History of Philosophy, in whose slow succession he
cannot help seeing a long-extended French Revo
lution, Form swallowing Form in a line, system- suc
ceeding system, drawn out through the ages, till the
absolute system appears, and with it the Napoleon of
Philosophy, who, of course, can be none other than
Hegel himself.

V. We find Hegel grasping the conception of
Development or Evolution (Entwickelung) in his In
troduction. "• When this becomes clear, everything
else follows of itself." He says that the object of
Philosophy is to deal with Truth, and that " Truth is

668 MODEEN E UROPEAN PHIL OSOPH Y.

one, the one source from which all is derived and to
which all is to be brought back." But what is this
Truth ? Hegel's answer is that it is the concrete Concep
tion itself, which he calls the Idea ; * * and it is the nature
of the Idea to evolve itself, and to grasp itself through
Evolution." It must turn back to itself and seize its
own process in order to be truly itself. Hence the
expression of Hegel: " the Idea must first make itself
that which it is," ere it can truly be or be the Truth.
It must be real, not simply ideal in the ordinary sense ;
indeed it is the ultimate Reality with the process
thereof.

It should be here observed that Hegel's Idea is
not Plato's Idea, which shuns the real as a mere
appearance or indeed a contamination ; the Platonic
dualism is the grand chasm between the Idea and the
actual world. But Hegel makes this actual world a
necessary part of the Idea, its realization. Herein
he takes up the view of Aristotle and explains him
self by means of it (I. 38). u In order to under
stand what Evolution is, two stages must be distin
guished. The one is possibility or the potential
(Aristotle's dunamis), the other is actuality or the
real (energeia). The difference between Asiatic and
European peoples is that the former are free but do
not know it (hence are only potentially free), while
the latter know that they are free (hence are actually
free)." Thus for Hegel Europe has attained the
highest degree of freedom. Moreover, in this doc
trine of Evolution is contained the germ of all Educa
tion. " All knowing and learning to know as well as
acting have no other aim than to draw out what lies
within, and so to make it objective," or to make the

HEGEL'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. G69

potential actual. Yet this development of the Spirit
is really a coming to itself: " Spiritual Evolution
consists in this, that its going forth out of itself and
its self-unfolding is at the same time a return to itself "
(I. 35). Still further on the next page in an exalted
vein: " Everything in Heaven and on Earth, God's
existence and all temporality strive toward the end
that Spirit know itself, make itself objective to itself,
find itself, interlink itself with itself. Spirit is sep
aration, alienation, duplication in order to come
back to itself and to discover itself. Thus it is
free, when it relates itself to another which is itself "
(I. 36).

The student of the History of Philosophy will find
many correspondences in these thoughts of He^el to
those of the Greek philosophers. Especially do we
think of Aristotle whose fundamental principle of the
Universe is Thought thinking Thought, or Spirit
recognizing itself in all objectivity. Then the Neo-
Platonic Triad, particularly as it presents itself in
Proclus seems to rise up again for a fresh utterance
through this German thinker. It is Proclus who has
the threefold movement as the basis of all things : the
Stay (Mone) which is the implicit or potential stage;
then is the Going-forth ( proodos) which is the Sepa
ration or Alienation ; finally is the Return (epistrophe).
It is true that Proclus does not distinctly make these
the three stages of the Spirit's self-knowing (sichselbst
erkennen), though he has passages which may be thus
interpreted. Proclus is, on the whole, abstract and
metaphysical ; against such abstraction Hegel warmly
protests, and insists upon the Idea as that which
posits its own division and distinction out of itself

670 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

and then cancels the same, whereby it becomes con
crete as the absolute process of itself.

In the line of evolutionary forms of thought
Hegel considers the result of one stage of Develop
ment to be the starting-point of the next stage;
the last of the preceding phase is the first of the
following phase. Thus arises " a row of Evo
lutions, which must not be conceived as a straight
line running out to infinity, but as a circle which turns
back into itself, which great circle has as its periphery
a vast multitude of lesser circles whose entirety is a
grand succession of Evolutions bending around into
itself." (I. 40.)

This thought is specially a Neo-Platonic favorite,
occurring in all three of the great masters of the Neo-
Platonic school — Plotinus, Jamblichus, and Proclus.

VI. Thus the History of Philosophy is a sequence
of systems of thought, evolving cyclically in each
particular case, as well as in their totality. But what
governs the order of their succession? The logical
categories. Hegel holds that the historic succession
of Philosophies corresponds to the conceptions of
Logic, that is, of Hegel's Logic. This statement is a
famous one, having provoked contradiction from his
opponents, and even from some of his followers (for
instance Zeller and Schwegler). Conversely, the
logical order is the order of the historic appearance
of Philosophies in their leading principles (I. 43).
This declaration has been cited to prove the historic
substrate of Hegel's Logic. Furthermore, "the study
of the History of Philosophy is the study of Philosophy
itself." Such a declaration seems to show the pri
macy of the History of Philosophy in the Evolution

HEGEL'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 671

of Hegel's thinking. Still just here occurs a diffi
culty : " in order to recognize the Idea in its historic
movement, we have to bring with us the knowledge of
the Idea." (I. 44.) It is indeed a strange pursuit:
we can get Philosophy only by having it beforehand ;
we can understand its History if we know in advance
what it means. After all, then, we must learn the
significance of Philosophy, if we would grasp its true
historic Evolution. At least we must have " a ra
tional faith " that its phenomena are not merely a
matter of chance, but are "determined through the
Idea."

The preceding Evolution seems to show a succession
of systems, in which each vanishes into the next higher
without end. " But the idea it is which destroys the
finite shapes of thought ; a Philosophy which has not
absolute form identical with its content must pass
away." (1.50.) What Philosophy has this? Seem
ingly Hegel's. The previous Philosophies have dis
appeared as independent systems, but as parts or
stages in the process of the Whole, they are eternal
and necessary, being an organic link in the total Evo
lution, whose final act is to return upon itself and
grasp its complete movement from the beginning.
"The result of the History of Philosophy is the
Thought which, while remaining with itself, embraces
at the same time the Universe, transforming the latter
into a world of Intelligence." (III. 617.) So it
comes that the last Philosophy is the Form including
the totality of all Forms as its content. Here we
reach the Absolute as the unity of subject and object;
this unification is the work of the subject, positing and
then canceling its difference from the object, which

672 MODERN E UBOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

process is absolute Knowing. " Science (absolute) is
this: to know this unity in its entire evolution
through itself." (III. 622.)

Hegel concludes his History of Philosophy with a
far-reaching outlook from a very lofty eminence : '* A
new epoch has arisen in the world. It seems that
the World-Spirit has now succeeded in shuffling off
everything alien to it, and finally in grasping itself as
Absolute Spirit; what becomes objective to it, it
succeeds in creating out of itself and peacefully pre
serving in its own power. The struggle of the finite
Self-consciousness with the absolute Self-conscious
ness, which once seemed outside of it, is ceasing.
The finite Self-consciousness (or Ego) is no longer
finite; and on the other hand just through this fact
the absolute Self-consciousness (or Ego) has obtained
a reality which it hitherto lacked." Here we cannot
help interrupting the quotation and saying that Hegel
in this passage begins to see beyond Hegel and all
Philosophy. When he declares that the absolute Self
has not true reality till the finite Self thinks it
or re-creates it (for so we may understand him),
he is passing out of a philosophical into a psycholog
ical view of the Universe. But, to continue the pass
age: "The whole course hitherto of the History of
the World in general, and of the History of Philosophy
in particular, represents just this struggle (between the
two preceding forms of Self-consciousness), and seems
to have reached its goal at that point where the abso
lute Self-consciousness, whose idea ( Vorstellung) it
possesses, has ceased to be an alien matter (to the
finite Self-consciousness), hence at that point where
Spirit (or Mind, Geist) is actual as Spirit. For Spirit

HEGEUS HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 673

is actual only as it knows itself as absolute Spirit, and
this knowledge it obtains in Science " ( Wissenschaft,
here Philosophy). Such is the standpoint of absolute
knowledge: "Only in Science does Spirit know of
itself as absolute Spirit, and this knowing is alone its
true existence. This is the point of view of the
present time, and here the line of the Forms of the
Spirit is for the present closed " (III. 662-3).

What next? Has Philosophy reached its final desti
nation in the system of Hegel? Repeated expressions
in the preceding account bear out such an inference.
The word absolute in itself as well as in its various
applications certainly implies such a meaning. Yet
there are other expressions which indicate that Hegel
is simply the last of a series which though "closed
for the present," may continue its development in the
future. Such is the dualism manifest in Hegel just
here, and it is found in many other places, yes, every
where in his writings and in his thought. Nor is it
confined to Hegel by any means, it is the dualism
inherent in all Philosophy, which, now driven into
opposition with itself at its deepest point, be
gins to look beyond itself toward a new dis
cipline. Such an outlook we may repeatedly note
in the foregoing citations. But again : " the individual
is now to grasp the inner substantial Spirit " other
wise he is blindly driven forward by it. "Accord
ingly our (Hegel's) standpoint is the knowing of this
Idea as absolute Spirit, which posits in opposition to
itself another Spirit, namely the finite Spirit whose
principle is to recognize the absolute Spirit in
order that this may become for it" or one with it,
the Absolute. Such is the height of Hegelian ideal-

43

674 MODERN- E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ism: the absolute Self (Idea) is to posit the indi
vidual Self which is to return and recognize that ab
solute Self in its absoluteness as the inner process,
the universal spirit in all History. Thus the historic
line of Philosophies is " not a multiplicity, not a suc
cession, but through self- recognition becomes one
total Spirit ever-present, of which each single Philos
ophy is a moment," or an element. The principle
now is that the absolute Self posits or indeed creates
the finite Self whose function is to recognize this ab
solute Self as its own essence or process. Wfth such
recognition, coming through Science or Philosophy,
the old conflict between the two sides ceases. For
by means of Philosophy and its historic evolution, the
finite Spirit appropriates the World-Spirit, which
thereby becomes an actuality, being embodied, so to
speak, in individuals. Hegel's last appeal to his
hearer (or reader) in the History of Philosophy is
" to produce actuality" for this Spirit, which each is
to accomplish by recognizing it and making it his own,
and then being determined by it to a philosophic
obedience. So "the struggle between the finite and
absolute Self-consciousness " ends in submission to
the latter through the absolute Knowing imparted by
Philosophy.

VII. Such is, ultimately, the Absolute of Hegel,
truly an Absolutism which the individual is to recog
nize as his own very Self universalized ; then he is to
be one with its movement. It is the absolute author
ity above him, which, indeed, he makes real by his
recognition of it and his subjection to it, but which is
put over him without bis Will. He does not make
this supreme law or law-giver, even if he makes them

HEGEL'S HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 675

real by his obedience. But the fact is that the
individual, in the shape of the philosopher, has pro
jected this supreme principle, this absolute Spirit,
which is to determine the individual. The latter part
of the process is what receives the grand stress in
Hegel at this point; the former part of the process,
the determination of the absolute Spirit by the indi
vidual, js not explicitly set forth, even if at times
implied. In other words, Hegel proclaims the law
as authoritative over the individual recognizing it, but
the philosopher does not proclaim the individual
as the maker of the law which is to govern him. The
latter principle is not philosophical but psychological,
not European but Occidental. Hegel has repeatedly
said that Philosophy is the thought of the age and its
institutions. The principle of self-legislation or self-
determination was not in his time, nor is it yet
completely actualized or made institutional in Europe.
If we take Hegel at his word in the present case, his
Philosophy cannot be the thought of another age and
of another institutional world. It is not absolute
in spite of its name and his labor to make it such. If
it creates the individual, the individual must recreate
it in order that it truly exist, yet this last is what
Hegel substantially leaves out of his process of the
Absolute, even if we catch, in certain elevated pas
sages, fleeting glimpses of what has been omitted.

It is probable that the latter citations above given
which affirm so decidedly the absolutistic Absolute
belong to his Berlin period, though the editor has
given us no authority for our conjecture. They show
the spirit of the Philosopharch preaching the duty
of the individual to recognize as Absolute and final

G 7 6 M ODE EN EURO PEAN PHIL 0 S OPHY.

the system of the Master. Still the individual is not
simply to recognize the Absolute and to obey its law ;
but he is at last to make the mandate which he
obeys, and to recreate the Absolute which creates
him ; in fine Philosophy is to bring its follower to
make his own Philosophy — which principle, how-
•ever, is no longer Philosophy but its translation into a
higher discipline. And the follower of the master is
not yet complete in his discipleship till he reproduces
that master completely, following him not so much in
his thought, but rather in his creation of thought.
Such a principle however is not strictly that of Philos
ophy, but of what underlies Philosophy and makes it
an element or stage of a greater process.

It is true that the learner must first study and
understand and recognize the Absolute, of which he
is intellectually the product, — such is the training
of Philosophy, perennial and indispensable. But he is
finally to reproduce that which produces him, and thus
make himself a part of the process determining him,
and this must be his conscious principle. We must
see, therefore, and not only see but practically realize
that to be a complete follower of Hegel, we have to
transcend Hegel. If we adopt simply the formulas
and doctrines of the philosopher, we leave out that
which makes him a philosopher, namely his creativity.
But then if we reach philosophic creation and make
another Philosophy, it will ultimately be found to have
the same dualism as the Hegelian and all Philosophy.
The creative Ego must not only formulate anew the
Absolute but formulate itself as the formulator of the
Absolute.

VIII. Still Hegel has drawn an everlasting lesson

HEGEVS HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 677

from the History of Philosophy which is certain to
bring forth fruit in many directions. His great state
ment is Evolution of the Spirit, which is Philosophy
itself. Henceforth Philosophy having evolved itself
historically, is to show the Evolution of every form of
science. The particular Ego or the finite Self -con
sciousness, having gotten hold of and appropriated the
universal Ego or absolute Self-consciousness in its
inner development has struck the key-note of the
whole Century.

From the History of Philosophy, accordingly, Hegel
gets his original creative conception of what Philoso
phy is, especially in its coming significance. It is,
however, not simply the Spirit's Evolution but the
recognition of the Spirit's Evolution, and the formula
tion thereof by thought. The Absolute, having been
found historically to be self -knowing, must now give
a full account of its evolutionary Self on every line.

What will be the next line on which Hegel's think
ing will develop itself? Just on that of the philoso
pher's own Self, of the individual Ego. We may hear
him talking to himself at Jena: " I have attained the
Absolute externally, through History, can I not now
attain it internally, through myself? The Absolute
is certainly out yonder in the world ; is it not in me
too? And if I have evolved it out of the row of
philosophers, can I not evolve it out of myself who as
the last philosopher of the row, must be the whole of
it myself ? In fact, if I come right down to the real
point in the case, who has made this Evolution of
Philosophy from the beginning but myself? It exists
and has existed, to be sure ; but it has reached a new
stage, a new life, the self-conscious one, through me.

678 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

I say the Absolute has become truly self-knowing for
the first time, and now knows itself to be self-knowing
through this Ego of mine, which I must at once pro
ceed to separate from its immediate connection with
the outer Evolution in the History of Philosophy, and
I must make it evolve itself within through its own
inner events or stages."

So we may picture a bit of Hegel's own Evolution
as he passes to writing his Phenomenology of Spirit,
a book which has a peculiar personal flavor, being the
individual development of the Ego into the Absolute
or Universal which is also Ego.

B. HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY.

The second line or way on which Hegel moved
toward and into the Absolute goes by the name
of Phenomenology of Spirit. " The science of
this way is the science of experience, which the
mind or consciousness makes," and which
appears as forms of this consciousness. " Such
a system of the mind's experience embraces
only the appearances or the phenomena of the
same," hence the above title. (Ph. s. 27, 29.)
"What appears to be an activity against the
Ego is found to be its own activity," which
constitutes the Appearance that is to be canceled.
" Thus the movement seems only negative,"
but this is again the seeming, the Appearance
which is itself to be negated. For it is the
nature of Spirit to appear: " to become another
to itself, that is, an object of its Self, in order

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 679

to cancel this otherness (dieses Andersseyn
aufzuheben)" Thus we lay before the reader
at the start a specimen of the peculiar subtle
dialect of this book — a new German dialect
which has to be learned before much can be
done. It is evident, however, that the Phe
nomenology is at bottom the separative stage of
a larger process, moving as it does in a long
chasm of separations between Ego and Appear
ance, subject and object, the individual and
world, which separations are all to be annulled,
one after the other, up to the Absolute Ego or
Person, the self-knowing One. Hence the
double demand: Science requires of the
individual that " he elevate himself into this
ethereal realm of the Absolute in order
to live with it and in it," to identify
himself completely with its process. " On the
other hand, the individual has the right to
demand of Science that it reach to him the lad
der for climbing up to this viewpoint, or rather
show this also to him in himself" (Ph. s. 20).
Such is the famous phenomenological ladder
reaching upward into the pure ether of the
Absolute, erected by Hegel for his students,
who have usually found it exceedingly difficult to
ascend. One more sentence giving the main
purport of the book: " The plan is to lead the
uncultured individual (or Ego) to knowledge " of
the Truth, which is to bring him " to contem-

680 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

plate the universal Individual or the self-con
scious Spirit in its formation," that is, to behold
the Absolute as self -knowing in its Evolution
(s. 21).

Thus the Ego as self-observing observes its

o o

own Evolution as manifested or phenomenal till
it reaches just this self -observation as the princi
ple of the Universe, or the Absolute as self-
knowing, self -observing, self-conscious. In this
way the individual Ego, through its self-con
scious activity, rises to the knowledge of the All
as self-conscious Ego, which posits in its own
Evolution the stages of the Phenomenology.

If we take this book literally, it is the science
(logos, rational principle) in all Phenomena, or
Appearances of the world, as they come before
and pass through the individual human Ego. It
is manifest from this title that Hegel is here grap
pling with Kant's dualism, the Thiug-it-itself and
its Phenomena, which divided the Universe into
two moieties, the unknowable and the knowable.
From this point of view we might call Hegel's
Phenomenology the unfolding into unity of the
Kantian dualist ic science of knowledge.

But there are other points of view from which
we have to look at the present work. We have
already seen how intimately Hegel was bound up
in the French Revolution, which had become the
central movement of all Europe. One kind of
government in France had succeeded another,

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 681

one form of Spirit (Hegel's Geist) had evolved
out of another, with amazing rapidity; Hegel
himself had been whirled along through the
maelstrom of this universal European process.
The death of the king, the Reign of Terror,
the Directory, the Consulate, the Empire -
what a bewildering line of mighty events,
bringing forth at last the Absolute in person,
NAPOLEON ! Now the Phenomenology is in its
way the child of this epoch, and reflects the
feature and the soul of its parentage, being truly
a universal book and the product of the Spirit of
the Age. The total movement of Europe has
generated its Absolute as ruler, who is no longer
received from the past and transmitted through
inheritance. By the furious Dialectic of Revolu
tion he has been begotten and now governs in
his own individual right, and not through the
precedents of law. He has transformed Revolu
tion into Evolution, or rather through him Revolu
tion is seen to have been Evolution all along, in
its most violent, destructive manifestations, since
just he is what has been in the process of evolv
ing from the beginning. Hegel's Phenomenology
is likewise the Evolution of the Absolute as the
all-dominating Spirit, and thus gives in its most
internal form, the movement of the Age.

That this written theoretical Evolution should
be the work of a German was in the order of
things. France practically shows the Dialectic

682 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of the Forms of Government, through whose
whole gamut she runs in the course of about
a dozen years. But Philosophy, as the Teutonic
discipline of modern Europe, has to show the
Dialectic of the Forms of Mind., which she
separates from their concrete embodiment in
the occurrences of Time and formulates as
they are in themselves. The voice of Teu
tonic Philosophy is now Hegel. To be sure he
had examples long before him, specially Plato
who also lived in a great period of political dissolu
tion, when the Greek City-State was likewise
going to pieces by its own inner Dialectic which
the Greek philosopher extracted from his own
age, and fixed in the categories of his philos
ophy. Nor must we forget to mention that
Plato also evolved something akin to the Abso
lute as the ruling power of his llepublic.

We are to see, therefore, that Hegel pri
marily heard the call of his time ; or, as he
would say, he followed the dictation of the
World-Spirit in writing his Phenomenology. He
had to show the untruth in all the Appearances
of the period, but also the underlying ultimate
truth. The French Revolution was to be seen as
phenomenal, as a grand phantasmagoria of unre
alities which Europe danced through toward the
Absolute Reality. Its winning but deceptive
Appearances which at the start enticed all the
aspiring souls of Europe, turned out to be de-

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 683

rnonic powers which always scourged and often
destroyed their own followers, till at last this neg
ative energy, after having first charmed and then
disillusioned the world, commits suicide, that is,
turns its own negation against itself. Such is the
final manifestation of that which is here called
Dialectic.

Now Hegel in his book gives this process of
his own age specially, though he will not fail
to wheel into line other corresponding ages.
All the delusive shapes of the human mind are
thrown out upon his canvas, and are shown
devouring one another in succession, till that
shape comes forth which not only swallows all,
but re-establishes all — the Absolute. Hegel
himself in his revolutionary Period passed
through these experiences, and felt himself cut
to pieces inwardly by their rapid self-destruction.
In his own heart he felt the remorseless knife of
the Dialectic slaughtering the shapes which he
had taken to his bosom. But this knife he will
afterwards get hold of by its handle and use
in his Phenomenology, no longer its victim but
its master. For Hegel particularly at Tubingen
may be said to have been the victim of Ap
pearances, as was all Europe. And the delusion
continued, though at Frankfort he began to see
into the phenomenal side of the Universe, chiefly
through the study of Plato whose eternal Idea is
still the medicine against the fleeting Appear-

684 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

ances of the world. Very real Plato became to
him as we see by his History of Philosophy and
by many allusions scattered through his works.
So Hegel begins to clutch Appearance, and
finally he seizes the Appearance of Appear
ances and makes it tell its secret, its truth (in the
Phenomenology}, as Ulysses clutches thousand-
shaped Proteus (in the Odyssey) and compels
him to appear as he is in reality and to " speak
what is true."

I. The real fruitage of tbe French Revolution is
Evolution, which Hegel grasps and applies through
his method in tbe Phenomenology. Consciously
France seeks to reconstruct herself and all the world
a-priori, according to so-called rational principles.
Reason was to prescribe the Form of Government and
to make its Constitution ; no growth, no Evolution was
acknowledged; the past bad been all wrong, and
society must begin over again from its first founda
tions dictated by Pbilosopby, tbat is by tbe Illumina
tion (AufMdrung) of tbe Eighteenth Century. Still
Evolution was doing its work in all the swift changes
of tbe Revolution, till finally it becomes conscious,
explicit, uttered in Hegel wbo theoretically evolved
the Absolute which was practically incarnate in the
Frencb Emperor.

But wbat becomes of the individual in tbe presence
of this Absolute? Herein Hegel's own experience
will furnish a symbolic fact illustrating tbe World's
History. Tbis Phenomenology is said by Gans (in
bis funeral notice of Hegel) to bave been " completed
amid tbe tbunder of tbe cannon at tbe battle of Jena,"

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 685

in which Napoleon commanded the French. Thus the
incarnate Absolute has penetrated to the quiet nook
of the philosopher evolving it from within. The latter
sets down in a letter: " Monday, October 13th, 1806,
the Emperor Napoleon has entered the walls of Jena."
Hegel witnessed the battle. The troops stormed in,
the town was on fire, the soldiers entered his quar
ters. Hegel thrust into his pocket the last portion of
the manuscript of his Phenomenology, which was now
being printed, and fled to a place of safety, leaving
his other papers and his books to their fate. That
last portion, what does it contain? Just the Absolute
evolved, existent and at work in the world. And be
hold, here comes that Absolute in person; the indi
vidual Hegel loses " paper, pen and penknife," and
has to beg for materials in order to write a letter even ;
he takes refuge in a deserted student's room, passes
a time of anxiety for his personal safely, but his
chief care pertains to his manuscript which may
be consumed through the very presence of that Abso
lute which it has deduced, or apparently educed,
as Faust's invocation calls forth the Earth-Spirit. At
last "he knew not whither to turn," a wall of
fiery fate surrounded him on every side. He had
44 literally not a penny," and sought relief through
the charity of friends, among whom the ever-thought
ful Goethe sent a contribution. So near did the
philosopher come to being burnt up by his own
all-consuming Absolute.

And yet he escapes. And not only does he escape
but he persists in his principle, though nearly scorched
to death by its flames. Also his book escapes ; even
that precious last portion gets through the wall of fire,

686 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

reaches the publisher, and is printed so that it lies here
before our eyes to-day far off in the Mississippi Val
ley, very placid and imperturbable, showing no trace
of its baptism in blood and conflagration. But the
shrinking, scorched individual Hegel, peeping out
from some coign of vantage, beholds with sensuous
vision the grand Appearance, something like a
Theophany : "I saw the emperor — this World- Spirit
(Welt-seele) — riding out through the city to recon
noitre." A most marvelous phenomenon, the view
of which is quite enough to repay us for what we have
suffered. " It is truly a wonderful experience to see
such an Individual, who, concentrated here to a point
and sitting on a horse, reaches out over the world and
controls it" (Rosenkranz, Leben, s. 229). Then
comes a sharp dig at Prussia (note this for
future reference) followed by fresh admiration
for "the extraordinary man." And yet along with
this exaltation runs a note of deep anxiety lest
"my manuscript may not have reached the pub
lisher." Ach Himmel! What then? "My loss
would be altogether too great " for human endurance.
Then there would be no philosophy of this terrible,
yet most wonderful Absolute, the grand Reality be
fore us. The philosophic Napoleon would be de
stroyed by the actual Napoleon. " The Lord knows
with what a heavy heart I send off this package by
mail," lest it perish from the earth. And still he can
say in spite of his heavy heart: "Everybody now
(after the battle of Jena) wishes success to the French
army, as I did before it." Then another dig at the
whipped Prussians on account of " the enormous dif
ference between the leaders and even the common

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 687

soldiers of the two armies." All of which will rise
up against Hegel a dozen years later when he goes to
the Prussian capital as professor of Philosophy. And
not only then: to this day in his own country the
above words rise up against him and cause him to be
branded, along with Goethe, as unpatriotic, as false
to his country in the hour of her sorest trial. Excuse
we may, but impossible it is to justify such an attitude
at such a time.

We have spoken of Goethe and we may here note
that there is an inner relation between the Faust and
the Phenomenology. Both spring out of the negative
Eighteenth Century with its denial; both are evolu
tionary — the Evolution of Mephistopheles in the First
Part of Faust is the foundation of the whole poem
Each is the development of the individual Self, which,
however, is representative of all, and so universal.
The authors were cotemporaries and indeed friends ;
undoubtedly both drank deeply from the common
fountain of the spirit of the Age, so that Hegel's follow
ers often deemed that they could translate Goethe's
poetic forms into the philosopher's categories.

Such, however, was the remarkable coincidence (so
let it be called) occurring at Jena with a kind of clash
between the two Absolutes, the theoretical and the
practical, the philosophic and the actual. " The
World-Spirit on horseback, concentrated to a point,"
but all ablaze with destructive energy, sweeps over
and envelops in flames its own spiritual Evolution, but
does not and seemingly cannot destroy it — a mirac
ulous preservation which certainly ought to sharpen
our interest in the bo )k — which by the way will call
into exercise all our sharpness.

688 MODE EN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

It. How shall we grasp this Phenomenology? The
mind as individual Ego looks at all its experiences
which are stimulated by the world of objects as imme
diate or existent, and orders them in an ascent or
gradation from the lowest (as mere sense perception)
to the highest, which is itself Mind as ordering prin
ciple and which knows itself as Absolute. Thus it is a
hierarchy of all the experiences which the Ego has from
its first knowing of the sensuous thing up to absolute
knowing fct as the self consciousness of absolute
Spirit." These experiences of the Ego are also
called its phenomena, its manifestations to itself as
conscious, of which the present is the science, Phe
nomenology.

We may look at the movement in this way also :
the outer world coming upon Mind and being taken
up by it, determines it to an activity which is special
in many ways. For this outer world is that of divi
sion, of multiplicity, of particular things, and it
separates or particularizes the Mind as total, as the
one process of the All. Now this total Mind as self-
conscious is to look at itself thus divided into many
activities by the manifold world, which thereby be
come forms of its experience, and which have
received certain names or categories expressing just
this special determination of the Mind (as Perception,
Understanding, Reason, etc.). These are the phe
nomena or manifestations of Mind in its attempt to
make the objective world in all its manifoldness
subject or known.

We have already had to speak of the Absolute, or
absolute Knowing which is the end of the Phenom
enology, and yet determines the cognition of the

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 689

' object from the start. The Ego takes each ob
ject as independent or self-subsistent at first, but
each then is made to show its dependence and
imperfection till absolute Knowing is reached, which
alone has truth and self-subsistence. For instance,
the sensuous percept is taken as independent, ex
istent by itself, but it at once shows itself to be
dependent, to exist through something else. My Ego
at first asserts every particular object, even that of
sensation, to be self-contained, to be its own master,
in other words to be a kind of Absolute, all to
itself, and hence to be the Truth. Then comes its
change, its evanishment, its negation, showing it
to be untrue or imperfect, at most a part, a phase,
or phenomenon, which is not the Absolute, but
which just the Absolute in its negative might (as
the Dialectic) reduces to an Appearance, properly
an Appearance of itself, but not the Reality of itself.
Manifold are these Appearances, graded on a line up
to this ultimate Reality which is the Absolute.

Thus the total Mind (or Ego) looks at itself de
termined and divided up by the world of objects,
which it is to know separately, yet as its own, as its
distinct activities in knowing, which activities are
are to be grasped, categorized and ordered in
this Phenomenology. Finally the total Mind grasps
itself, grasps Mind as totality making all these
divisions of objects, and then making them vanish
as self-subsistent, into phases of its own total pro
cess, which is the Last Reality, or the Absolute as
self knowing, or self-conscious Person.

Such is, then, the movement: man, the reader, this
Ego reaches by the foregoing process absolute Being,
44

690 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

thinks it, creates or recreates it out of his own
thought. Here the question comes up : Does he, this
individual Self thinking the absolute Self, belong to
the process in his own right? Is he made by Hegel
an integral part of it, distinctively formulated ? He
is certainly present all along, but his presence is more
or less an implicit part of the absolute Totality. He
is himself a phenomenon of consciousness reflecting
the phenomena of consciousness till he attains the
supreme self-knowing Absolute which posits him as
one of its phases or appearances. What now is the
function of the individual? He is to recognize the
Absolute (erfcenncn), and thus become the philoso
pher, whose recognition is followed by an absolute
submission to the Absolute. It would seem that the
creative activity of the Ego winning its supreme
Reality now droops, and lets itself be determined
wholly by its own Absolute.

Here, then, we would add to Hegel, making explicit
that which is implicit in the phenomenological process :
the individual is not simply to recognize the Absolute
and to obey its law, but he is at last to make the law
which he obeys, is to recreate the Absolute which
creates him, is, in fine, to determine that which de
termines him. Thus he reaches his true freedom in
and through the Absolute.

To be sure, he must first study and understand and
recognize the Absolute of which he with all his knowl-
edge°is the product — such is the work of Philoso
phy. But then he must also perpetually reproduce that
Absolute, and not simply recognize and obey it ; nay,
he must not only reproduce it, but formulate such
reproduction through himself as an integral part of

EEGEL' 8 PHENOMENOLOGY. 691

the process of the Absolute itself — that will give the
new discipline, Psychology.

III. There is another element in the Phenomenology
which adds to its difficulty. This is the peculiar liter
ary form in which the author has clothed his work.
Is he really in earnest or is he cajoling us with his
sly Rabelaisian humor? Is it philosophy with a sys
tem or a philosophical romance? Often the reader is
puzzled in what way to take the book. A serio-comic
vein runs through these forms arising and vanishing
in so many unexpected turns, that one cannot exactly
tell whether the thing is a comedy or tragedy. Its
literary form is certainly confounding to the unini
tiated reader, indeed highly provoking, whereat the
general critic starts to cursing it with the hottest ex
pletives in his vocabulary.

But just this literary method is, we hold, one of
the chief merits of the book, and assuredly one of its
most original qualities, though the reader has to
familiarize himself with it, and see into the reason of
it. Undoubtedly its form is as a whole highly Ro
mantic, though its different portions vary a good
deal in this regard. At the same time it satirizes,
negates, cuts to pieces Romanticism in its pitiless
Dialectic. In the Introduction Hegel breaks loose
from Schelling, the philosopher of Romanticism, as is
well known. But in his whole work he makes the
Romantic movement undo itself through its own inner
self-negation ; its very form is shown to be self-
undoing, that is, dialect'cal. Now it is just this
doubleness of procedure which constitutes a leading
difficulty of the Phenomenology: it is a book written
in a Romantic style, which destroys Romanticism.

G92 MODEEN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

Herein lies the concealed satire which we feel in the
literary manner of the author, a certain duplicity
whose object, however, is to serve up duplicity to
itself. The Romanticists made a great deal out of
irony ; here we have it, but pushed to its own self-
dissolution. The reader, therefore, must train him
self to a kind of second sight or double vision which
looks in two opposite directions, the Romantic and
the anti-Romantic. For this reason the Phenomenol
ogy is not likely to have more than a dozen sympathetic
readers in a century, but these dozen will keep it
alive and even make it germinate in new books.

It has been compared to the Divine Comedy of
Dante, the great poem of medieval Romanticism.
Both indeed have a long line of disembodied spirits,
extending up from the lowest pit to the highest heaven.
But Hegel's Inferno begins here and now with sen
suous consciousness, and his Paradiso is the Absolute.
Both may be said to show stages of the Ego in passing
through a world of shades (Hegel calls it a Schatten-
reich). Still there are many differences between the
two; one of which is that Dante personalizes and
names his forms, while Hegel is careful to keep them
impersonal. Gladly would we know at times their
names as well as their period and locality in history,
but usually all these matters have to be guessed at in
the Phenomenology. Occasionally it is plain whom
and whose doctrine the author means, but he seldom
designates the individual philosopher whose principle
he may be assigning to its position in his " realm of
shades." One "reason may be that he is not now
writing a History of Philosophy, in which the philoso
pher is personally named along with his doctrine in

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 693

its historic setting of time and place. Such a work
has been already done ; so at present Hegel is to set
forth the pure movement of human consciousness,
abstracted from all its finite incumbrances ; the mind
unbodied is to be seen in its impersonal movement
evolving its transparent shapes from the lowest to the
highest. It is not the first German Philosophy to
produce the impression of a fantastic philosophical
romance; witness Leibniz' Monadology , which is
also a gallery of ethereal forms rising in a line
from the lowest Monad to the supreme One, also a
Monad.

IV. There is another relation of the Phenomenology
which must not be omitted: It is a working out of

C5

the philosophical problem of the time which specially
begins with Kant, who inherited it from Locke and
Hume, and which is deeply connected with the funda
mental aim of all Modern Philosophy. This hovers
about the cognition of the object. Can I here know
the thing out yonder in the world? The answer of
the Eighteenth Century is, in general, that you cannot
know it, not as it is in itself, but only its appearance.
The answer of Kant specially is that Ego can only
know what it has put upon the object (or thing) by
the Forms of Sense-perception or by the Categories of
the Understanding, while the true object remains out
side and unknown. Now just this Kantian dualism,
which separates the object into Phenomenon on one
side and Thing-in-itself on the other is what Hegel
tackles and seeks to overcome in all its shapes by the
phenomenological process. His purpose is to get
back to the genetic source of this separation, and to
grasp the unity which primordially divides into Appear-

694 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ance and Truth, and which he will ultimately find to
be his Absolute, the self-knowing universal Ego.

Hegel affirms that Kant's Critique of Pure Reason
is essentially a Phenomenology, or a science of Phe
nomena showing what appears to the Ego in its
attempts to know the object. This fact gives to Hegel
his starting-point and problem. But his movement
is to transcend Kant and to find the true Thing-in-
itself , the Absolute. This he evolves stage by stage
out of the world of Phenomena which, however, con
tain it in a series of imperfect manifestations. For
each stage or form is an appearance by virtue of its
incomplete expression of the ultimate Reality or of
the Absolute, in which it disappears as phenomenon.

For this reason, Phenomenology is a vanishing
science. It is a ladder, but when the ladder is drawn
up into l' the ether of pure Spirit," there is no longer
an ascent. As soon as science has found the truth of
Appearance, there is no Appearance and hence no
science of it. Or when Kant has vanished into Hegel,
Phenomenology as such goes along. Hegel's main
argument is to show the invalidity of the unknown
Thing-in-itself, in which the mind denies its own
determination as valid, determining what it declares
at the same time it cannot determine. This contra
diction Hegel exploits through the whole world of
consciousness from its lowest stage to its highest.
Every object is a Thing-in-itself which when known to
be such cannot be known, except as it appears to the
Ego. Reality cognized by mind is really incogniza
ble, and hence is but phenomenality, a delusion.
Such is Kant's negation, or rather implicit self-nega-
, which Hegel makes explicit in the Phenomenology

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 695

by means of his so-called Dialectic. The book is,
therefore, one continued negation of negation, the
denial of denial, the destroyer of destruction. But
when the process is completed, the whole science
vanishes into its underlying positive principle, which
is Psychology. Hegel himself knew this. In his
later work, the Encyclopedia, he literally tore to pieces
his Phenomenology, and assigned its parts to other
sciences, keeping but a small fragment under its
own name. And this name has quite disappeared
from later mental science.

Thus Hegel connects in his Phenomenology with the
Philosophy of his own time, the modern German
movement starting with Kant, and running through
various stages in Jacobi, Fichte and Schelling. Hegel
has relations to all these philosophers. But his great
object-is to overcome the dualism of the Eighteenth
Century, which culminates in Kant. We have seen,
however, that the phenomenological sweep is far
wider than the modern German movement, since it
likewise embraces the ancient Greek world. Indeed
it runs parallel with the whole History of Philosophy,
as already stated, which is here shorn of its temporal
wrappage and set forth in the pure movement of its
concepts, without any label of person, time or place.
The distinctively historic side of the evolution of
thought is carefully removed, that the mind may be
hold its own naked Self rising through all its ancestral
shapes, till it sees the very Absolute as the self-
knowing All. It is true that the Absolute has been
secretly present in these antecedent forms of con
sciousness and seeking to express itself in them, but
they show themselves inadequate and hence are van-

696

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ishing ; they are broken to pieces by their too great
content, and thus manifest what we have repeatedly
called the Dialectic.

V. Already we have used the term Dialectic several
times in different connections. It is the most subtle,
elusive thing in Hegel, more so in the Phenomenology
than in his other books, being not separately set forth
and held up by itself, but immanent in the procedure
from beginning to end. Hegel had studied the Dia
lectic in Plato, particularly in the Parmenides; he
had also gone back and carefully traced it (as we see
in his History of Philosophy) in the first philosopher
who had employed it, Eleatic Zeno. Thus we must
suppose that Hegel already had theoretically grasped
the Dialectic through his profound studies in Greek
thought. But there is no evidence that he had as yet
practically realized it in writing till we find it weaving
through all the intricacies of the Phenomenology, the
most intricate and impalpable element in the work.
It is really that dynamite which enters into every
phenomenal form and explodes it as finite, as inade
quate to express the content of the Absolute. So we
have a line of mental explosions produced by this
form-bursting Dialectic all along the line of ascent, till
at last the Absolute gets its own form adequate to it
self, which the Dialectic cannot blow up except by the
carelessness of the philosopher.

From this source, too, comes the atmosphere of
Humor, uripurposed indeed, but all the more effective
because it flows of itself, in which the Phenomenology
floats on its way toward the Absolute. These forms
show themselves, one after another, as self -annulling,
as comic to a degree, through their own inner process,

HEGEUS PHENOMENOLOGY. 697

which is the Dialectic. This element enters into the
literary quality of the book and makes us read it with
a smile when we get into its subtle movement. We
have already spoken of its Romantic irony which is
indeed closely related to the above-mentioned Humor.

Great misunderstanding exists concerning the na
ture of the Dialectic. It is often considered as a
mere word-play to produce mental confusion ; or " to
make the worse appear the better reason." Sophistry
is held to be its synonym, and the honest seeker of
truth is told to shun its use. Such views show a com
plete misconception of the Dialectic, or at most take
into account only its perversion. Doubtless it has its
bad side, so have most doctrines, and men too. Even
Religion has its Devil. Moreover it is a very rare
power, even more rare than the poetic gift. Really
it cannot be learned, even if many externals about it
can be acquired. It is a born product of the spirit
spontaneously welling up into speech and also into
action. A speaker or writer, with a native dialectical
power, is very different from a person with a merely
rhetorical gift. The mind endowed by nature with
the Dialectic has an insight into the inner movement
of all finite things, it sees the self-negating energy in
the world of limitation, and puts into its utterance
this inner energy. The dialectical soul has the uni
versal born in it, yet chafing against this confine of
birth, and perpetually breaking over it into what is
beyond. The greatest dialectician in History is Soc
rates, who through his dialogue made his people and
then the world conscious of the Universal.

VI. The Scheme or Order is usually an important
and strongly emphasized portion of Hegel's proced-

693

MODERN EUROP-EAN PHILOSOPHY.

ure, being set down in advance as a guide for the
following exposition. But in his Introduction to this
book, no Scheme is given. He speaks of the System
which embraces " the whole realm of the truth of
mind," whose successive stages or moments are the
Forms of Consciousness. Eight of these Forms the
author places one after the other designated by Roman
numerals. Such seems to be his fundamental division.

Now upon this primal division is clapped a new
order, a Triad which embraces the entire work — Con
sciousness, Self-consciousness, and Reason. Hegel
affirms the triplicity of Mind strongly in his Prelimin
ary Discourse ( Vorrede). But when we look into
the third stage (Reason), of this Triad, we find that
it contains considerably more than twice as much as
both the other stages put together. Thus it seems
decidedly top-heavy, and Hegel changed it just at this
point in his later Encyclopedia. Still more strangely,
the divisions of Reason are not threefold, but four
fold, and those of Self-consciousness are twofold.
But when we come down to the subordinate details,
the Triad holds largely though not always in the
minute subdivisions.

Thus the Scheme must be pronounced to be confused,
particularly in its leading outlines ; which fact stands
in decided contrast to the schematic transparency of
Hegel's later books. We have to conclude that the
author had not come to complete clearness in regard
to the larger sweeps of his work. The details he has
wrought out, but the organization of the whole is
manifestly defective. Here lies the ground why some
contemporary matters are elaborated with a fullness
which is out of all proportion to their importance, for

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 699

instance Physiognomy and Phrenology. The result
is the Gmk symmetry so manifest in Hegel's other
great books, is violated, and we have often a capricious
subjective treatment. In other words the Phenomen
ology shows its Romantic character in the vagaries of
its Scheme as well as in its literary manner.

We have noted that the basic division designated
eight leading Forms of Consciousness in an ascending
line up to the Absolute. But these are very different
in importance and so disproportionate in treat
ment that the best way is to make a division
distinct from any of Hegel's, namely to regard
these leading Forms of Consciousness as six. They
will be as follows: (I) Consciousness proper — the
Ego knows the object immediately as determining
it. Three stages. (II) Self -consciousness — the
Ego knows itself as determining the object —
mainly Will. Three stages. (Ill) Reason — the Ego
knows the object as its own process. It is evident that
this stage returns to the first and forms a true psychical
process (Psychosis). At this point the Phenomenol
ogy, as it is reformed and restated in the Encyclo
pedia, is made to end. The following three stages are
there assigned to wholly different spheres from those
given here wlrch we proceed to state. (IV) Spirit
(Geist) — the Ego now knows the institutional world
as its object, in regard to which knowing it passes
through three main stages or attitudes, each of which
in turn shows the triple division. To our mind this is
the best part of the book. (V) Religion — the Ego
knows the object as absolute Ego under the form of
image or symbol. Three stages. (VI) Absolute
Knowing — the Ego knows the object as Absolute Ego

700 MODE UN E UR OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

under the form of the self-knowing Self, that is, under
its own form of self-conscious Ego (not under that of
an image or symbol as in Religion). Thus the Form
becomes adequate to its content, both being absolute.
Absolute Knowing is " Spirit (or Mind) knowing it
self in the Form of Spirit." Moreover this Form is
44 that of the Self or Ego " which is thus Self-con«
sciousness as absolute or the absolute Person, whose
movement is to divide within into itself and its oppo
site (as Appearance) and then to return to itself by
annulling this division (Ph. s. 582-3.)

Science (Wissenschaft, Philosophy according to
Hegel) does not arise till the individual Ego reaches
absolute Knowing, and beholds its process as one with
itself. Accordingly we have now properly attained
Philosophy at the end of the Phenomenology. Now
we can see the absolute Ego, in its own self-evolution
positing those Forms of Consciousness which the in
dividual Ego has made to vanish as Appearances in
Succession or in Time. But the absolute Ego turns
back, and takes up into itself this Succession or Time,
44 which is Fate and Necessity only to the incomplete
Ego," before the latter has attained the Absolute.
Time is the empty outer Form of the self-evolution of
the Absolute without its content of selfhood. 44 This
Form of Time is not extinguished till the Ego grasps
itself as absolute " (Ph. s. 584). Thus it has over
come the difference or separation which underlies all
Appearance, and hence underlies this Phenomenology.

On this path we have reached essentially the same
result that we attained at the end of the History of
Philosophy. The absolute self-knowing Self has gen
erated the individual who through Science is to recog-

HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY. 701

nize it and obey it as absolute. And yet the individ
ual as philosopher has generated and formulated it,
otherwise it would not be as Science. But the philos
opher Hegel after having done the whole work leaves
himself and his own activity out of the process. Very
manifestly his Absolute is not the whole of itself, of
its own movement, and hence is not the Absolute.
It becomes finite and falls into the jaws of its own
Dialectic.

And yet the autocracy of the Absolute is by no
means so explicitly affirmed as in some of Hegel's
later writings. In this early book the absolutistic
character of his First Principle does not come out so
fully, still it is there and is fermenting. We have
here, however, distinctly the individual evolving the
Absolute till the latter is recognized as containing all
Evolution within itself, and thus knows itself as
evolutionary. In fact, the Absolute cannot be self-
knowing for man till it has created him what it is,
namely a self-knowing Ego, which has the power of
producing or evolving the Absolute as self-knowing.
The very movement of this Phenomenology is the
calling-forth of the Absolute through the individual,
but this part of the process is dropped when the grand
result is attained.

VII. In the evolution of the phenomenological
forms of experience or of consciousness we note the
following: (1) Each form is an identity of subject
and object, so that this fact runs through the whole
science. (2) Subject is the higher, and is what de
termines the form of experience as such, though the
object is present and stimulates the subject to take it
up, and to throw this act into a category of mind

702 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

which is psychological. (3) The degree of the
ascent toward the Absolute depends upon the degree
of completeness with which the total Mind is present
in the form of Experience. How near is it to the
Absolute? Or how adequate is theobject to the sub
ject? or the Content to the Form? (4) The individ
ual mind is evolving itself through all these forms
of experience, till it reaches Absolute Mind or
the Supreme Reality, which has within its own
self-knowing Ego the entire evolution of the forms
of experience as well as its own self-conscious act
ivity.

But now enters a new fact, verily a discovery. We
begin to find underlying all these categories of the
Phenomenology another wholly different set of cate
gories which have been lurking in its movement from
the beginning. When I say simply, Consciousness is
or becomes something, I have applied to it at first quite
unconsciously two (if not three) new categories,
Being and Becoming. Are these also to be dragged
out from their hiding-place, separately held up and
looked at by themselves, and then also ordered in
a new work? Consciousness, Perception, Self-con
sciousness, Reason, pertain properly to the Ego, are
psychological categories; but Being, Essence, Qual
ity and Quantity pertain properly to all existence, are
logical categories, expressions of the Logos itself.
Undoubtedly this speech of the Absolute itself, the
substrate of all human speech, must be freed of its
external appearance, seized as it is in itself, and
organized into a science self-unfolding, which will be
called Logic (we might almost dare name it Logology,
parallel to yet in contrast with Phenomenology, or the

HEGEVS PHENOMENOLOGY. 703

science of the Logos, as distinct from the science of
the Phenomenon}.

When this new task with all its magnitude dawned
upon Hegel, we can imagine him crying out (say
atNiirnberg): Dear me! Will this phantasmagoria
(Schattenreich) never come to an end? Have I to go
through another dance of the Ghosts (Geister), far
longer, more desperate, more elusive and impalpable
than that last one? I might as well pass to Hades
(Hell) at once, the home of all the shades, and be
come there a shade myself. When I had dug out
at Frankfort that line of past Philosophers I thought
I had done a nice little piece of work, enough for a
life-time. But when I went to Jena and associated
with those Romanticists, the spooks of my own Ego
began teasing me, teasing me incessantly, so that I
could find no peace till I had separated them all from
myself and had banned them into one long line of that
printed book, the Phenomenology. But now from its
depths I see rising here before me a new order of
Spirits, denizens of a still deeper realm to which I
must descend, and of which I must tell to the people
of the Upper World."

So our philosophical Dante sets out on a new jour
ney to explore a still profounder Inferno than the
preceding one, also more devious and lengthy. For
his soul's salvation it was done, let us think in his
case too, since " there was no other way " to Para-
ciso and to Beatrice, whose terrestrial counterpart
(let us never forget) he found and made his own dur
ing the writing of this book.

704 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

C. HEGEL'S LOGIC.

How ean the scope of the Logic be grasped
for making a start? Conceive the Universe first ;
then conceive it to be self-knowing, self-con
scious, properly an Ego or Intelligence as abso
lute; thirdly conceive this absolute Intelligence
or Ego as going through its process of knowing
itself, and precipitating all the stages of such
process into categories so that the whole of them
form a kind of language of the Absolute.
Hegel's Logic is the Universe as Ego thinking
and uttering its thoughts as absolute in an abso
lute tongue which the student now is to learn.

This Absolute is Mind, Ego, and has the
movement of self-consciousness, separating
within itself and returning to itself in order
to know itself, and at the same time talk
ing to itself in its own peculiar speech that
it may fully understand itself. Thus it can
also be conceived as the one Absolute Person
seeking to know himself adequately, as univer
sal ; for the Universe can have but one supreme
end: to become self-conscious. Yet this becom
ing is a process, each step of which has its desig
nating word, its formula or category. Thus it is
evolutionary, the Evolution of the Absolute, or
we may say the Absolute evolving itself, its Self-
evolution. Hence it is also perpetually self-
returning, going back upon itself in the act of

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 705

self -consciousness. So it comes that the Evolu
tion of the Logic has likewise within it a cyclical
principle, of which many examples will be given
later.

Moreover we can now see that the Logic is the
third stage of the evolutionary Hegel, that is,
of Hegel evolving the Absolute. In the Phe
nomenology he reached the Absolute by means of
the individual Ego passing the world through its

O 1 O O

alembic and positing the appearances thereof in
a line of ascending categories, the last of which
was just this Absolute. But in the Logic this
Absolute having been attained, is next to give an
account of itself to itself, to show itself forth unto
itself through its own inner history, that it may
know itself as the self-knowing Absolute through

o e

all its gradations. Such is its logical function
as distinct from its phenomenological: in the
f©rrner the Universe as self-determined absolute
Ego is categorized ; in the latter, the Universe as
determining the individual Ego is categorized.
Thus our absolute Hegel has reached the third
or self -re turning stage in his Evolution of the
Absolute, which is finally to be seen as a stage
of the philosopher's own Evolution.

But what has become of the individual in this
logical process of the Absolute? He is "to look
on " (zuzuseheri) and see the thing run of itself.
He is no longer an element of the movement.
To be sure the individual in the Phenomenology

45

706 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

attained or in a sense produced the Absolute ; but
now he is dismissed without ceremony from any
further participation, or is allowed perchance
" to look on." Wait; he being thus left out, is
sure to make trouble with the Absolute.

Still we are to keep in mind the mighty sweep
of this Logic: the Intelligence of the Universe
is speaking and is at the same time making
speech, as it speaks of itself and tells what it
is, namely what is universal Intelligence in which
all men must participate if they are to under
stand one another. This language of the Logos
as unfolded in the Logic, the individual must
appropriate if he would know truly what he is
talking about, and reach down to the basic cate
gories of human speech, which otherwise he
uses unconsciously, just as they lie imbedded in
his ordinary sentences. These must now be
stripped of their phenomenal finite appurte
nances and shown in their underlying essential
forms, which constitute the language of Intel
ligence as universal, and which are set down
and ordered in this Logic. Two Dictionaries
henceforth the thinking man is to possess: first
is the ordinary one of separate vocables ; but
the second is the Dictionary of the language
of the Absolute Self, which language originates
in the process of the latter knowing itself and
talking to itself. This speech of the Absolute
Self or of Universal Intelligence is, according

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 707

to Hegel, .the logical one, which must now be
evolved and made scientific by the philosopher.
And the individual (let us repeat) is simply " to
look on," and, if he can, behold "the march
of the Object itself" (der Gang der Sacltc
selbst), for this is " the representation of God
Himself as He is in His eternal Essence before
the creation of Nature and of Finite Mind " (III.
s. 39, 33. Our reference here and elsewhere,
when we cite the logical treatises, is to Hegel's
Werke III— VI, which four volumes include the
three volumes of his larger Logic and the one
volume of his smaller Logic of the Encyclo
pedia ) .

I. There is a fair degree of unanimity among the
most competent judges that Hegel's Greater Logic
(there is also a Lesser Logic of his in the Ency
clopedia) is his most important work. It was written
in the height of his power, being published in 1812- 16,
when the author was 42-46 years old. Of course he
was unfolding into it a long while before, all his
mature life in fact. In the Frankfort outline of his
system it is present, though as yet immature ; he lec
tures upon it repeatedly at Jena ; it has its place in
the Propaedeutic. In Hegel himself, therefore, the
Logic is a long, persistent Evolution, and the work it
self, in its deepest character, is also evolutionary,
nothing less than the unfolding of the Pure Forms of
Thought through all their previous stages till their
culmination is reached in Hegel's Absolute. Also the
age was evolutionary, transforming, as we have already
seen, Revolution into Evolution, which is now to

708 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

become conscious in the thought of the time. That is,
the epoch has arrived in which Evolution is to be made
aware of itself, and to this process a whole Century
(the Nineteenth) is to be chiefly devoted. Its deepest
note is still this Logic of Hegel, which, as a phi
losophic utterance, has taken its place alongside of
the world's greatest books in the present field, such
as Aristotle's Metaphysics, Spinoza's Ethics, Kant's
Critique of Pure Reason.

Hegel had been quietly turning over his funda
mental principle since 1808 when he became rector
of the Gymnasium at Niirn^erg. The situation was
favorable to making mind turn back upon itself and
explore its most subtle and abstruse processes. South
Germany accepted Napoleon the Absolute, being
essentially imperialistic both in politics and religion.
Its ties to the Empire and to the Papacy had always
been closer than those of North Germany which was
by nature protesting (Protestant), and dissatisfied.
After the catastrophe of Jena Hegel had enough of
the North-German tumult, and turned southwards to
the land of peace and submission. We have seen how
he barely saved himself and his Phenomenology from
being swallowed up by that Absolute " on horseback"
whom he had theoretically evolved. Hegel (with
Goethe) has been much blamed for the lack of patri
otism, because he did not stir up the German people
(as Fichte did) to resist the foreign despot. But that
was not his call in life, was not his conviction. He
cjuld never have dwelt with the " Pure Essences,"
and have unfolded them in writing, if he had allowed
himself to be swept along in the time's hurly-burly.
His true vocation he rightly grasped ; accordingly

HEGEVS LOGIC. 709

under the aegis of the living Absolute he gives him
self up to the contemplation and development of all
its antecedent shapes whose inner movement is to
bring forth its present final shape. Undoubtedly most
men will continue to admire the patriotic Fichte as a
character more than Hegel. We can see, however,
that each filled his place and worked out his destiny
in his own way.

II. The entire sweep of the Logic is the Evolution
of the Absolute ; it has, therefore, the same general end
that we find in the History of Philosophy and in the
Phenomenology, and its period is that of the evolution
ary Hegel. Yet we observe in it the self-returning
principle more marked than ever before. The circu
lar movement is everywhere applied. Philosophy
evolves itself not in a straight line, but in the form of
a vast cycle " whose periphery is composed of a great
number of lesser cycles." The structure of the Logic
will carry out this principle at every point ; as a whole
it is one vast cycle self-returning, which, however, is
made up of an infinite number of small and smaller
cycles, each of which is also, self -returning or the total
process.

Moreover the Logic, is not merely a self-returning
totality within itself, or the whole logical cycle, but this
logical cycle is a part or stage of a still greater cycle
which is in general what we have called the evolution
ary, properly a stage of Hegel himself. Very dis
tinctly does the Logic go back to the History of
Philosophy, quite to the beginning, and thence take the
category of Being, which was the Eleatic principle of
Philosophy. Then the doctrine of Becoming (TFer-
den) was that of Heraclitus. These facts are noted by

710 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Hegel himself, who also declares that each category of
the Lcgic was once the basic formula of a system of
Philosophy that rose, flourished, and declined with its
time. Thus the historic Evolution furnishes the
content of the Logic and up to a certain point its
movement also. Each of the logical categories may
be regarded, says Hegel, as a statement or definition
of the Absolute, specially belonging to the age in
which it appeared. So we have to consider the
Logic as a return to Hegel's first great evolutionary
insight, that of the History of Philosophy, and a new
elaboration of its content and its process. Thus we
see that the Logic through its very position as the
third stage of the evolutionary Hegel is self-returning
by its innermost nature ; in it the philosopher returns
upon himself, and recognizes just that act (the self-
returning) as an inherent element of the total logical
movement. Well may he say that Philosophy is not
merely a progress to infinity in a straight line as givtn
by Time but is also cyclical as given by the Ego, by
Spirit.

It, is true that Hegel's Logic does not rigidly follow
the History of Philospoliy. Some historical categories
are omitted, some are translocated. Still further, some
are introduced from Natural Science, as Chemism and
Mechanism ; others betray their mathematical
origin, as Measure and Proportion. Still these have
their justification There are times when a mechanical
view of the Universe prevails, as in the Seventeenth
Century, while the Eighteenth may be called the
chemical Century. In the main, however, Hegel de-
lives his logical categories from the History of Philos
ophy, freeing them indeed from their temporal wrap-

HEGEL ' S LOO 1C. 711

page and making them over into the pure evolu
tionary forms of the Absolute, which thereby knows
itself as the underlying principle from the beginning,
as Spirit or Ego.

III. This movement of "the pure Essences'* of
the Universe is seized as objective, necessary, abso
lute. The result is there will be small room for the
play of fancy and subjective caprice ; the individual
is to make himself one with this movement of the
All, recognizing it and yielding himself to its process.
Hence Romanticism which was such a dominant note
in the Phenomenology, q-iite drops away in the Logic,
with its impassive objectivity, flowing along in its
course with a classic Olympian serenity. The Ab
solute is indeed subject, Ego, but also object, the
All ; this Ego, however, cannot become Romantic
and break over bounds, being itself just the bound
less.

Such an infinite movement of infinite Spirit would
seem to be beyond man's reach in its abstraction from
everything tangible and finite. Hegel appears to
have felt this, and consequently he runs a second
terrestrial thread through his Logic underneath his
upper ethereal world. This second thread appears
in the shape of observations (Anmerkungen), which
are sometimes carried out to a considerable length.
Besides these we find remarks by the way, brief intro
ductions, tabular statements, which, Hegel is careful
to say, do not belong to the proper evolution of the
work. These outside remarks are chiefly historical
and phenomenological, and thus externally connect
the Logic with the two antecedent stages of the
evolutionary Hegel.

712 MODERN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

But the Dialectic remains in its full force, yet
shows itself under a somewhat different aspect from
that already noted in the Phenomenology, in which it
was more secret and implicit. In the Logic, hawever,
it 1ms become the conscious, governing method of the
whole exposition. It may be called the soul of the
categories impelling them to an inner movement,
which is "unceasing, unalloyed, undetermined by
anything from without." Hegel's logical categories
are endowed with a kind of self-propulsion, they go
of themselves according to "their own immanent
rhythm," while the individual (if he can get admitted
to their ghostly presence) is simply "to look on "
their dance. He can witness it, recognize it in its
transcendental purity and absoluteness ; hardly can
he share in it, certainly he cannot make himself an
integral part of its process by recreating that which he
recognizes to be the universally creative principle.
"The system of Pure Thoughts (represented by the
categories) completes itself through itself" undis
turbed by any external influence.

Each logical category through its own inner Dialectic
moves out of its limits and passes over into the next
higher category which preserves it, but preserves it
as canceled or sublated (aufgehoben). This is one
of Hegel's most famous and fruitful thoughts. The
higher principle does not destroy the lower, but takes
it up and integrates it in a new synthesis. There is a
progressive movement of the categories, but in order
to progress it must go back and include its earlier
stage. Thus the Logic is a grand metamorphosis of
categories; these are no longer fixed, separate, mo-
nadal as in previous systems, but fluid, bound-burst-

HEGEL'S LOGIC, 713

ing, aspiring (one may say) for what is highest, the
Absolute, which is the complete self-knowing, self-
returning All.

In Hegel's Logic the old separation between Logic
and Metaphysics is overcome. It took Hegel many
years and much study to bring about this unity
to his own satisfaction. In his Frankfort out
line, the first stage of the Norm is Logic and
Metaphysics; at Jena he puts both under one
heading in his lectures. Not till he wrought over the
subject in the quiet of Nurnberg, did he seize the cre
ative Conception (Begriff) as the genetic center of
both Logic (Form of Thought) and Metaphysics
(Content of Thought). Being and Essence, the first
two stages of the Logic, lead up to the Conception
which is the third stage, which returns to and repro
duces the two previous stages as necessary parts of
its own complete process.

IV. Hegel's Logic has even a deeper relation to
Kant than has the Phenomenology. The latter dealt
with the Kantian problem of the Thing-in-itself and
the Phenomenon, and pertained to the cognition of the
object. But the former grapples with the logical
scheme of categories which Kant simply takes for
irranted, adopting them from Formal Logic. Hegel,
however, gets back of this assumption of Kant, un
dermining it and then reconstructing from the founda
tion the whole logical movement. The dozen cate
gories which Kant picks up externally and disconnec
tedly, are increased enormously in number and in
ternally connected through their own self-evolution
from beginning to end. The result is a vast super
structure is raised by Hegel who in the line of thought

714 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

shows himself the greatest constructive genius that
ever lived. For Aristotle's Metaphysics, with which
alone Hegel's Logic can be compared in this regard,
is a disconnected discussion of the separate categories,
not an organic, internally jointed treatise upon
them. At least such is Aristotle's book as time has
transmitted it to us, and we suspect that it was
always of this character, though some critics are of
a different opinion. Hegel is supremely the archi
tect of thought, and his Logic is his masterpiece in
construction.

In another way Hegel reaches underneath Kant, in
part broadening the old foundation and in part
building a new structure. Kant had seen and un
folded the Dialectic of the Ideas of Pure Reason as
expressed in finite categories, and had drawn thence
a negative conclusion. Hegel, however, uncovers the
Dialectic in all finite categories, but makes them over
come their finitude in the Absolute, and so reaches
a positive conclusion. Thus the Categories and their
dialectical movement are evolved by Hegel out of
Kant, who is therein transcended yet preserved. This
is an instance of Hegel's manner of refuting pre
vious philosophers: he evolves them into the higher
stage which is his own. Hence arises the question :
Is Hegel's own Philosophy also to be evolved into
the next higher st-ige? Is his own principle to be
applied to himself? Elsewhere this question will
ceme up and will be discussed.

V. In his Introduction to Being (III. s. 55-69)
Hegel grapples with the difficult problem about the
starting-point of absolute Science. How can the
Absolute begin without becoming finite? Hegel

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 715

speaks of two beginnings — the most abstract cate
gory (Being) and the most concrete (Conception).
He puts the former first, though in the end it is found
to be the product of the latter. The Beginning as
such " both is and is not; " it is the " unity of both
Being and Nothing " in one process. Logic starting
with this process, has to begin with its first member,
Being.

Thus Being is " the utterly vacant," that which is
emptied of all difference, even of Nothing. It is the
Ego as All negating its own self -distinction or inner dif
ference, and seizing itself without difference. Or the
self-consciousness as Absolute takes away its division
ns self conscious, and is its own opposite. This is
Pure Being, the Absolute purely without that self-
division which is its own nature. This is, then, the
beginning, since the All is to develop into the self-
consciousness which is itself. But why must it begin?
Because it must show its own process as self-con
scious, starting from its own other. The All as
self-conscious, in being self-conscious, must first be,
and then move to difference or division ; this imme
diate First of the absolute self -consciousness is
Being. So it is Being with its own self-division
canceled for the beginning. "The Absolute Spirit
at the conclusion of the Logic unfolds a world of
Evolution from Being to itself." Thus the beginning
is " no longer immediate but mediated and the move
ment is a circle."

Hegel calls Logic " pure science, that is, pure know
ing in the total circuit of its evolution." This pure
knowing is self-knowing, which is a process. On the
one hand the Ego " is no longer opposite to the object,

< 1 6 MOD EltN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 S OPH T.

but has made it internal, and knows it as itself." But
on the other hand the Ego as knowing itself, or as
self-conscious, "has given up" its separation or op
position to the object and " is one with the same."
Mind takes the object into itself, and the object takes
mind into itself. Pure knowing, or Logic, or Science,
is the All knowing itself as process, and putting the
steps of this process into its own categories. The
total intelligence, grasping its steps and forming them
into categories, must be reknown by the individual
intelligence and ordered into a science. Logical
categories exist long before logical science, which is
consciously expressed evolution. "From this ex
plication of pure knowing, we see that nothing
is to be done except to consider its movement,
leaving out all reflections and opinions, and .taking up
only what is at hand (vorhanden)." Here again is the
statement of Hegel which affirms the philosophical
Absolute without its recreation through the Self.

Hegel further says : "To determine pure knowing
as Ego leads to the continuous suggestion of the sub
jective Ego, whose limits ought to be forgotten,9' and so
results confusion. But here comes the grand difficulty :
there is no going over from the Phenomenology to the
Logic without the Ego or Psychology. What is to
forget its limits? Just the Ego which is recreating
this absolute knowing or process. Hence the Ego
must be present and active in order *' to forget its
limits," that is, in order to reproduce itself as abso
lute. But with such a thought the underlying element
which makes both the Phenomenology and the Logic
comes to the surface : the Ego as determining the Ab
solute which determines it — which Ego, Hegel thinks,

HEGEL1 S LOGIC. 717

" ought to ba forgotten" by itself in its supreme
process.

VI. We see from the introductory notices to the
several parts of his Logic that its organization caused
Hegel a good deal of doubt, which has left its marks
upon this work in various ways (for instance in the
twofold division into subjective and objective.)
But at last he settled upon the threefold division
into Being, Essence and Conception. All three might
be put into a sentence which expresses the Logic;
Being's Essence is Conception. Logical science,
however, must go into detail and answer the three
questions: first, What is Being? second, What is
Essence? third, What is Conception? It may here
be noted that the great Athenian thinkers of an
tiquity had also elaborated substantially the same
thought: Being's Essence is Conception, or the Uni
versal (see our Ancient European Philosophy, third
stage of the Hellenic Period). Hegel's Logic un
folds each of these categories with its process into a
vast number of subordinate categories with their pro
cesses. The mentioned sentence may be regarded
as the fundamental saying of the Logos, generative
of all its other sayings.

In the treatment of Logic we must consider three
things which every stage has to pass through. These
are: (1) Procedure; the threefold movement, which
as being the outer numerical form (quantitative) is
always present. Or the Mind has its own quantitative
form in which it moves, and which it necessarily pro
duces. (2) Dialectic; the inner movement of the
object (and also of the Ego) from one stage to
another, each stage showing its finitude and the annul-

7 J 8 MODERN E UE OPE AN PHIL OSOPH Y.

ment thereof. Here the Thought or Ego breaks out and
shows itself one with the object in the flash of the
Dialectic, like the electric spark. (3) Process; not
the Dialectic proper, but its completion in a positive
result, called often by Hegel the Speculative. Thus
the Dialectic is itself dialectical, or the negative act is
negated, and the outcome is the positive totality, a
cycle of three stages. This is the process which is
fundamental with Hegel, really the Conception, or the
before-mentioned Speculative (VI. 151), which to
our mind is not a good term, since it does not sug
gest or necessarily contain the all-important thing,
namely the Process, but rather implies its absence.
Undoubtedly, Hegel has the Process, not however as
psychical (which is its concrete form), but as meta
physical (which makes it an abstraction). This point
will be more fully unfolded later.

The Procedure of the Logic we shall try to bring to
the mind, and, as far as possible, to the eye of the
student, by corresponding quantitative signs — by
numerals, Roman, Arabic, and also by letters large
and small — the whole in triple order and subordina
tion. Thus we hope to keep the outer form of the
Process ever present to him, which will also suggest
the inner movement, or at least that there is an inner
movement. Hegel has not failed to give these hints
of arrangement throughout his Logic, whose organiz
ation at once falls into vision. For Hegel is supremely
schematic ; philosophically this must be considered
one of his chief merits. He hated a chaos of thoughts
tumbling over and through one another without order
and due subordination, as is the present way of writ-

HEGEUS LOGIC. 719

ing even Philosophy. We can forgive him even if at
times he was over-schematic.

The threefold content of Logic, Being, Essence, and
Conception, with its organization we shall try to present
in a brief way.

(1) BEING. This is the Conception as immediate,
and hence outside of itself, for Conception properly
is not only mediated but the self-mediated. Each
determination of Being is other or external, hence the
universeismade up of things all separate ; this is, hence,
the realm of finitude with its Dialectic which is the
inner lurking Conception breaking down the limit of
the Finite. Three fundamental stages, Quality, Quan
tity and Measure.

(A) Qualitative Being — in which "the Being is
one with its determinations." Here again we have
three stages, and each of these is still further subdi
vided into three stages as follows: —

(1) First Process of Qualitative Being: (a) Pure
Being, (6) Nothing, (c) Becoming. Here occurs the
famous expression that Being is Nothing, about
which there has been much criticism, mainly
through a misconception of the meaning. Hegel aho
states that Nothing returns to Being and thus we
reach the Becoming, which is the total Process
of this primal or Pure Being. When we reflect
that Being and Nothing (Positive and Negative) are
categories of human thinking and are also in essence
inter-related, we begin to catch a glimpse of what the
philosopher has in mind by dragging these terms and
their Process to the light. He deems them the first
words in the language of the Logos or of the Absolute
Intelligence which man's Intelligence has learned im-

720 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

plicitly, but which is now to become explicit and ordered
in this Logic. Also these categories (according to
Hegel) are the starting-point of the History of Philo
sophy, the earliest ones separated from their phenom
enal wrappage and formulated by human thinking in
ancient Hellas. The Eleatics, for instance, had Pure
Being as their principle, and Heraclitus seized the
Becoming. Note also this primordial connection or
rather return of the Logic to the History of Philoso
phy, indicating the place of these two works in the
Process of Hegel's own Evolution.

Hogel uses the term Being in three (if not four)
different senses in his exposition. The first stage of
the Logic is called Being, then the first stage of Qual
ity, then the first stage of onat stage, which last we
have just named Pure Being. These different uses of
the one word in the same general connection some
times produces confusion and must be pronounced not
good exposition. We shall help ourselves out by
using specifying adjectives, which Hegel does now
and then, but not regularly.

(2) Second Process of Qualitative Being (Extant
Being, Daseyn): (n) Extant Being in itself, Some
what ; (6) Extant Being as explicit, Somewhat and
Other, the realm of the Finite ; (c) The Infinite as
qualitative and as a Process with the Finite. This
last division is specially important in a philosophical
sense. Hegel distinguishes between the infinite Prog
ress (the sic ad infinilum, called by him the bad, the
finite, and the negative Infinite) and the infinite Pro
cess, which is affirmative, cyclical. This is really the
Conception (Begriff) breaking up into the realm of
Being.

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 721

(3) Third Process of Qualitative Being ( Being- for-
itself, Fursichseyn): (a) Independent Being, the
One; (6) One and Many; (c) Attraction and Repul
sion as a process together. Individual Being we
might call this sphere and thus it has a fresh sugges
tion of Conception. In the History of Philosophy
Hegel identifies it largely with the atomic movement
in ancient Greece, which in its complete sweep in
cluded the individual Ego. In fact Atomism may be
defined as the Process of Being as individual (see our
Ancient European Philosophy, p. 151) or the first
getting of the individual through thought. Here
again we should note that Hegel connects his Logic
with the History of Philosophy in Greece.

(B) Quantitative Being — in which the determi-
nateness is external to Being yet is (has Being). Or
Quantity is the Pure Being which is indifferent to its
own Quality. Or Being separates into itself and its
own other or opposite which nevertheless is — Quan
tity. Also three subdivisions.

(1) First Process of Quantitative Being — undeter
mined Quantity : (a) Pure Quantity, which " has no
limit;" (6) Continuous and Discrete Magnitude;
(c) The limiting of Quantity.

(2) Second Process of Quantitative Being — deter
mined Quantity (Quantum), (a) Number; (&) Ex
tensive (multiplicity) and Intensive (degree) Quan
tity ; (c) Quantitative Infinity. Here again, as in
Quality, the Infinite becomes explicit and plays an
important part. The infinitely small and the infinitely
large indicate the infinite progress as quantitative,
which, however, is really the process of the Quantum,

46

722

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

according to Hegel, the annulling and the positing of
the quantitative limit.

(3) Third Process of Quantitative Being — Ratio
or inter-related Quantity, wherein the Quantitative
Process becomes explicit ; (a) the direct Ratio; (6)
the indirect or converse Ratio; (c) the Ratio of
Powers — unit, square, cube.

The preceding Quantitative Being is the realm of
Mathematics in its triple Process of undetermined,
determined, and interdetermined Quantities. These
are separated from Being as Quality and are made to
proceed within themselves in their purity. Thus,
however, they have the Quality of having no Quality,
and thereby show their twofold or separative charac
ter, which must come back and unite with Quality as
such. This takes place in the next.

(C) Measured Being (Maass) — in which Quantity
determines Quality ; we may call this sphere quantita
tive Quality. .Measure (or proportion) has its moral
and aesthetic, as well as physical and mathematical
applications. The expression "too much of a good
thing'* suggests Quality determined by Quantity.

(1) First Process of Measured Being (specific Quan
tity in its three main forms) : (a) the specific Quantum,
as one inch, which, being once measured itself, meas
ures the whole material world ; (6) specifying Measure,
as ten inches long ; (c) Being-f or itself in Measure,
or permanent Measure (as in the law of falling
Bodies).

(2) Second Process of Measured Being; Measure
becomes manifold or many Measures in ratio : (a)
The ratio of independent Measures (as in chemical
affinities) ; (6) The knotted line of measured Ratios

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 723

(as the decimal system and the scale in music) ; (c)
The Measureless, which is the infinite of Measure, as
there was a corresponding Infinite in Quality and
Quantity.

(3) Third Process of Measured Being, called by
Hegel " the Becoming of Essence." (a) Absolute
Indifference (between Quantity and Quality) ; (6)
Indifference as inverse ratio of its factors (centripetal
and centrifugal forces) ; (c) Transition to Essence, in
which the two factors of Being, Quality and Quantity,
are seen to be inter-related, each posits the other.
Thus the going-over of one to the other and of the
other to the one (which is the Process of Being) is
seized in itself as the Essence of Being, and both sides
are grasped in relation.

(II) ESSENCE. — This is Conception as the Imme
diate mediated, both elements of which statement
must be present and related. 'kln Essence there is
no longer transition but relation" (VI., s. 221). For
instance, Being and Nothing are independent cate
gories (immediate) ; but Positive and Negative are
relative categories, each is mediated through the
other. Thus Essence is inherently twofold, two-
sided, which sides are always in separation, yet
always in relation — two suns revolving around each
other yet never flying together.

Now the Absolute (Logos) unfolds in speech its
world of relativity, which is its separative stage, its
division within itself, of which each half reflects the
other half as its own complement. Hence Hegel calls
this also the reflective stage of the total logical move
ment. He is careful to say that Essence is not
complete reflection into itself (VI. s. 223) as that

724

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

would be Conception; it is the mutual reflection
of two complementary categories (like Positive and
Negative). It is evident that Hegel fluctuated a good
deal about the ordering of his Essence. Between his
two Logics, apparently not written more than six or
seven years apart, there are considerable differences
of arrangement and exposition. We shall make a brief
outline of the treatment found in the larger Logic,
with its three main divisions which are still further
divided and subdivided in triadal succession.

(A) Essence as reflective within itself (or inter-
reflective), which is its first or immediate form. (1)
First Process of Reflective Essence (Schein, appear
ance as immediate) : (a) the Essential and the Unes
sential ; (b) the Appearance (Schein) of Being; the
latter, when annulled as immediate, appears to be ;
(c) Reflection in which each side is mediated through
the other and thus we have the process of this stage.
(2) Second Process of Reflective Essence (or the
Essences proper, Wesenheiten, also called the determi
nations of Reflection) : (a) Identity, (b) Difference ;
(c) Contradiction. These are the basic categories of
the reflective stage, which holds them asunder,
though in relation. If, however, the mind puts them
into a process together, there is at once the rise to
Conception, which is indeed hard to avoid at
this point. But Hegel passes to (3) The Third
Process . of Reflective Essence (Ground): (a) the
absolute Ground; (6) the determined Ground; (c)
the Condition (as Ground). When the Conditions
are all present the Appearance follows, being medi
ated by the Conditions or in general the Ground.
Hence, we come to the following.

HEGEL'S LOGIC. 725

(B) Essence as mediated Appear ance(Erscheinung,
not Scliein which is immediate). This stage we may
call the phenomenal. ( 1 ) First Process of Phenomenal
Essence (Existence) : (a) The Thing and its Proper
ties ; (&) The Thing as composed of material elements
(stuffs) ; (c) The Dissolution of the Thing. (2)
Second Stage of Phenomenal Essence (Phenome-
nality) : (a) The Law of the Phenomenon ; (6) The
World as phenomenal and as in itself (essential) ; (c)
Dissolution of the Phenomenon. It is evident that
this stage of Phenomenality is Hegel's elaboration and
rise out of the well-known Kantian dualism between
the Phenomenon and the Thing-in itself. (3) Third
Process of Phenomenal Essence (the esential Rela
tion): (a) The Relation between the Whole and
the Parts ; (6) The Relation between Force and its
Expansion (latent and actual) ; (c) The Relation
between the Internal and the External. With this we
have reached Actuality, the third and last general
division of Essence.

(C) Essence as Actuality, which Hegel calls the
unity of Essence and Appearance ; the Actual is the
inter-relation of the two sides in one Process, which,
however, has three main stages, each of which is like
wise a Process. (1) First Process of actual Essence,
or the Absolute, into which all difference between Form
and Matter, Essence and Appearance, vanishes as into
the supreme One: (a) The Exposition of the Abso
lute (as the disappearance of determination) ; (6) The
absolute Attribute (the relative Absolute, or the Ab
solute taking Form) ; (c) The Modus of the Absolute,
its externality as a mere manner or mode of appearing.
These categories are the leading ones of Spinoza.

726 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Hegel's interpretation of them, as here given is ques
tionable on a number of points. At the best he shows
only the metaphysical pantheistic side of Spinoza,
who has also decidedly an ethical, individual side.
(See in the present work the account of Spinoza, pp.
177, 179, 231, etc.) (2) Second Process of actual
Essence, or Actuality as such, which is the manifesta
tion of the Absolute, the moving out of it, not into it
(as in the preceding stage): (a) Accident — or formal
Actuality, Possibility and Necessity; (b) relative
Necessity — or real Actuality. Possibility, and Neces
sity; (c) Absolute Necessity. (3) Third Process of
actual Essence — the absolute Relation which is here
discussed under three forms : (a) Substantiality; (6)
Causality ; (c) Reciprocity. Or the Relation of Sub
stance and Accident (annihilates), of Cause and
Effect (equalizes), of mutual determination of the two
sides which become one Process. When this posits
the twofoldness or the relation and then returns out
of it to the completed Process, we have transcended
the doubleness inherent in Essence, and have reached
Conception, the third stage of the total Logic, which
(Conception) has been underlying all the preced
ing forms and their Processes.

What is the object of presenting to the reader the
foregoing dry abstract outline? It is to impress upon
his mind Hegel's organization of thought. Thus can
be seen at a glance the external Procedure of the work,
its thorough-going triadal movement from beginning
to end and down to the smallest details of the mighty
structure. Here a glimpse may be caught of Hegel's
supreme gift: his architectonic power in constructing
tbe vast temple of the World's spiritual acquisitions,

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 727

and making each of them as it were march to its place
in the colossal edifice. And this edifice becomes
transparent to thought in its totality and in its minut
est parts ; at least this in the main can be said. Herein
the work is unique in Philosophy. The other greatest
thought-builders of the ages can show no such perfect
organization of the world of Ideas — not Aristotle,
not Spinoza, not Kant. And this power of organiz
ing thought is what must henceforth rule our earth
more and more.

To be sure, the inner movement of the work,
the subtle mental dynamite called the Dialectic with
its bound-bursting explosion of all these finite forms
or categories, could not be given in the foregoing
sketch without undue expansion. Still the Process,
the One and All, is, we hope, suggested — that cycli
cal movement in the Evolution of the Logos, which is
yet to become a part of man's education, when this
gets to be completer than it is now. Thus we havo
come to the fundamental Process, the Process of all
these Processes of Being and Essence, which is next
to be considered.

(III). CONCEPTION (BEGRIFF). — la this term
with its corresponding thought wo have reached
the center of Hegel's Logic and also of his
whole philosophical system. In his own per
sonal evolution he unfolds into Conception as
the unitary principle of Logic and Metaphysics,
and thence unfolds out of it into all the applica
tions of it to the special sciences. This pene
tration to the logical center of his system was
doubtless completed at Niirnberg, though begun

728 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

before. There he had to teach Logic and also
Metaphysics to immature pupils, and so was
compelled to unify his thought and bring it to
the greatest possible clearness. At any rate the
process of Conception is the first and last of his
Logic, veritably the Alpha and Omega of its
inner constructive movement. And afterwards
we find it generally applied to his special
elaborations.

It is true that Hegel in his Logic develops
Conception proper into a higher and final sphere
which he calls Idea. This is the reality of the
Conception. Still the Idea has in itself the pro
cess of Conception as its essential nature, and
so is properly Conception also, being the third
stage thereof in the systematic order. So it
comes that Hegel when he gives the fundamental
logical germ of his theme, cites the threefold
process of Conception — the Universal, the Par
ticular, and the Individual — as the ultimate
source beyond which the mind does not reach.
This, therefore, we may deem the germinal
Conception, out of which is born Hegel's Logic,
and out of this in turn springs Hegel's total
scheme of Philosophy. Thus we reach down to
the original Hegelian embryo, the examination
of which will have to be somewhat more micro
scopic than heretofore.

At the start is the difficulty of getting a good
term to represent this sphere. The best English

HEGEL1 S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 729

translation for the German word employed by
Hegel, is, to our mind, the word Conception.
There are objections to this term, but on the
whole it best corresponds to Hegel's Begriff.
Particularly is the translation of it into Notion
to be rejected, though sanctioned by many
authorities. Notion is just about the most
shallow and uncertain word for Begriff to be
found in the English dictionary. «« I have a
notion of a thing " quite perverts the meaning
and linguistic character of Begriff as used by
Hegel. Moreover the word Conception is
found in the older English writers with the sense
of creativity. This sense has not wholly lapsed,
or may be revived, since the Bible employs it
and also Shakespeare.

Conception, then, is the third stage or division
in the total sweep of the Logic, whose two pre
ceding stages are Being and Essence. These are
the " moments " of its process or its " Becom
ing; " the three, accordingly, constitute the
threefold movement of the total Logic, and thus
belong together in one round or cycle. More
over Conception is not only " the result " but
also " the foundation " of Being and Essence; it
is in truth the First in the logical process, since
it mediates Being, which we started with as the
Immediate. Thus it is a return to the beginning
which it posits, making the same no longer the
beginning. The movement of Logic through

730 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Being and Essence is hence the genesis of the
Conception, which is just this genesis of itself
made explicit and formulated. The process
underlying Being as Immediate is the implicit
Conception, which is to unfold fully into itself,
thus showing what mediates Being as the Immedi
ate. Herein Hegel shows his basic procedure as
cyclical, the last of the process turning back and
determining or creating the first.

But we must not omit to notice that each of
these stages, though a part or phase of the
total logical movement, has also the whole
of that movement within itself, and so is
organized by the Conception, which at first
orders Being, then Essence, then itself. In the
last case the Conception is seen to be self-
organizing, the Conception of the Conception.
Thus it organizes itself and everthing else. One
statement of this point, among many scattered
through his Works, runs as follows: Concep
tion is " the Totality in which each of its mo
ments is the Whole that Conception itself is"
(VI. 315). And we are also to note that
44 the procedure of the Conception is no longer
a going-over from one thing into another (as
in Bsing), but is Evolution ( E ntwickelung ,
Development) since the different is at the same
time identical with the other and with the
Whole." Each separate stage has fundament
ally the same process as the other stages and

BEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 731

as all of them together. Such is Hegel's con
trast between Being and Conception: the one
has Transition, the other has Evolution (or De
velopment) by means of which " that is pos
ited which is potentially or ideally existen ,"
not yet real. For instance, the plant is ideally
present in the seed, and it is the process of
Conception (this is in all organic life) which
is its development from one stage to the other
(VI. 316-7).

Here another question rises : What existent
thing in the entire universe most adequately rep
resents this Conception? What object can you
point out which is Conception? Otherwise the
treatment remains hazy. Listen to Hegel in a
very important passage which sounds almost
like a confession: " I shall here confine myself
to one observation which may serve for help
ing us grasp the present subject and lighten
its difficulty. The Conception (Begriff) in so
far as it has arrived at an existence which is
free (complete), is nothing else than Ego, or
pure Self -consciousness. I have indeed con
cepts, or specific conceptions, but Ego is the
pure Conception, which as Conception has come
to existence." (V. 13). This is in a number
of ways a very significant statement. It may be
considered Hegel's explanation of Hegel, the
metaphysical or philosophical Hegel for the
nonce turning psychological. He declares

732 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY,

openly that the Ego with its process as self-
consciousness is just his Conception as existent,
as a reality in the world . Yet his Conception
is the principle which underlies and propels his
Logic and consequently his whole philosophy
from beginning to end. Hence one asks at
this point, why he did not- install the Ego
directly and by name as the ultimate process
of his system, the process of his own Self
always on hand and at work? Or has he done
so? In a manner he has; but in a more de
cided manner he has not. Just here indeed
lies Hegel's grand uncertainty, his dualism, his
fluctuation between the purely philosophical
and the psychological points of view. For
though he acknowledges again and again that
his Conception is Ego, he will abstract it
from the Ego and keep it abstracted as a
metaphysical category, till its connection with
its fountain head seems obscured if not
lost. Still, having once heard this key-note
of his entire system, we shall not forget it,
through all the vast and intricate mazes of our
philosopher. Nor can we help noticing in the
preceding passage a sort of hesitation, as if he
were unwilling to speak the matter out. Why
such an undertone in his words? Each reader
will naturally make his own interpretation in such
an uncertain matter; but our opinion is that
Hegel caught a glimpse of the fact that such a

HEGEL1 S LOGIC - CONCEPTION. 733

declaration ultimately involves a complete recon
struction of his system. He would have to carry
all his categories back to the process of the Ego
and explain their origin and movement by that
process directly. But thus Hegel's Philosophy
would push beyond itself, indeed beyond Philos
ophy itself, and ent'ei? a new world-discipline,
namely, Psychology. Such a step he did not
and could not make in his epoch nor in Europe,
since he had no actual institutional realm for the
around-work and the illustration of his thought.

o *^

Hegel himself has often said that Philosophy can
only utter the thought underlying the institutions
and civilization of the country and age in which
it appears. Philosophy cannot, any more than
can man, leap out of its skin.

In the same passage Hegel describes or per
chance defines the Ego as " the pure unity which
relates itself to itself," which is " the abstraction
from all content and determinateness," and in
such act " returns into the freedom of unlimited
equality with itself." This is the absolute free
dom of the Ego, and is " Universality which is
the result of the previous negative procedure,"
the abstracting from all determinate content.
Yet, on the other hand, the Ego is Individuality
just by this procedure, " since it places itself in
opposition to everything else and excludes the
same;" thus it is "individual personality."
Note now the change: the abstract terms with

734 MODERN" EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY

which Hegel here characterizes the Ego are Uni
versality and Individuality, which we shall later
find in the treatment of Conception, though
Particularity, or inner separation will have to be
introduced in order to make the process complete.
Still further: " each of these is the totality,
each con-tains the determination of the other in
itself, and they are One, which One, however, is
the disruption of itself into Two," namely, the
Universal and the Individual (V. 12). Such is
not only Conception, but " the Conception of the
Conception," or the Ego grasping and formu
lating its own process. It is plain that Hegel
has here before his mind the Psychosis, but is
expressing it metaphysically and not psycholo
gically. What necessity, inner and outer, lay
upon him to do just thus, has been already
touched upon.

In the same connection Hegel sets forth an
other important point : his relation to antecedent
philosophies. Specially does he trace the devel
opment of his Conception out of the Substance
of Spinoza. He emphasizes the fact that he
will not and cannot refute the system of Spinoza,
as if his own were the truth and the latter false.
Refutation is not the right word or thought to
express the evolution of one System out of the
other. "The doctrine of Spinoza is a neces
sary standpoint, upon which the Absolute places
itself" in its movement. "But it is not the

HEGEVS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 735

highest standpoint," though it is to unfold into
the latter, which is to contain it as a subordinate
element. "This implies a deficiency, a lack of
completeness; it is imperfect truth, but not un
truth. The only refutation of Spinozism, is
first, to recognize its principle as essential and
necessary, and then to elevate this principle out
of itself into the higher. Substance (Spinoza's
doctrine) is to be seen as a stage in the genesis
of the Conception," into which it unfolds and
becomes a moment (V. 9—11).

In like manner Hegel goes back (in his Intro
duction to Conception) to Kant, and shows us
on what lines his Logic is an evolution from
Kantian thoughts. Even to ancient Aristotle
he returns (V. 30) and, while giving great ap
preciation, indicates wherein the supreme Greek
philosopher has to be transcended. For Logic
must now concern itself not simply with the
Forms of Thought, but " must investigate in
how far these forms correspond to Truth." It
is plain that Hegel seeks to connect himself with
antecedent philosophies, as they come down the
stream of time, regarding his own philosophy as
the last point of view into which the rest have
developed, and from which they are to be
judged. Very closely he joins his Logic to the
History of Philosophy, which is evidently pres
ent to him all the while, and from which he
draws as jrom his primal sources.

736 MODERN E UR OPE A N PHIL 0 SOPHY.

Another reflection the alert reader will not fail
to make, at this point. The whole line of the
philosophies of the past has unfolded into the
Hegelian, which thus becomes their test and
final arbiter. But is Hegel's own doctrine to be
subjected to the same law? Is he in the process of
Evolution or is this to stop with him? If his is
truly the absolute philosophy, it would seein to
be the end of the philosophic world-movement,
and the beginning of something else. There is
no doubt that Hegel at times speaks as if his
system were the philosophic finality. Particu
larly during his last period at Berlin, his auto
cratic spirit in philosophy increased, and practi
cally at times he tried to play the part of
dictator. Equally certain is it that the opposite
trend can be shown in Hegel; he regards his
own work as being no exception to the evolu
tionary principle in philosophy, of which he has
been the stoutest champion. The present is,
then, another case of what we have already noted
as the Hegelian dualism, and the same dualism lies
deep in all philosophy. In the foregoing state
ments Hegel decidedly stands for evolution of
thought, and he explains his Conception as devel
opment, till at last the Absolute Idea is reached.
Just here can be seen the germinal point of the new
thought, which is to reconcile the Hegelian dual
ism and that of all philosophy. Yet this must
be done in accord with Hegel's own principle as

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 737

heretofore set forth. His philosophy is »not to
be refuted by argumentation, nor is it to be set
down as false. On the contrary it is to develop
its own inadequacy from within, and so bring
forth the higher point of view. What he says
he has done to Spinoza and to Kant, must be
done to him, if his doctrine be universal, and not
a caprice of his own. It is a necessary stage in
the movement of philosophy, but shows itself
inadequate and contradictory, wherein its own
Dialectic must apply to itself. To be true to
Hegel in the deepest sense, we are to unfold
Hegel out of Hegel. He cannot be battered
down from without, but he can and must be
evolved " into the higher standpoint." Thus he
is eternally preserved in his own History of
Philosophy, and is the whole by being truly the
part.

And we may state here that not only Hegel's
philosophy, but Philosophy itself as a world-
discipline is also to be put into this development.
The time has come when not only separate phi
losophies are to unfold, one out of the other, in
an endless chain of succession, but Philosophy
itself, the whole of it, as a world-discipline is to
be thrown into the cauldron of Evolution, in
order that out of it may come forth not merely
another new Philosophy, but another world-
discipline, which is " the higher standpoint " not

47

738 MODEEX EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

merely in relation to some special philosophy,
but in relation to the totality of Philosophy.

Hegel, however, cannot entirely avoid discuss
ing the psychological side of his logical process.
This comes up prominently with the question,
What is it to conceive? (V. 15.) The answer
runs: "To conceive an object consists really
in nothing more than that the Ego makes the
same its own, penetrating the same and bringing
it into its form, which is the Universal made
individual, or the Individual made universal"
(as set forth in the preceding process of Con
ception). Emphatic is here the statement that
the Ego must perform the process of Concep
tion, is indeed just that process. But what is
this Ego? It has several stages very different,
which are in general sense-perception (or sensu
ous intuition), representation, and this Concep
tion (or Thought). But how are these stages
graded in importance? "The object in sense-
perception or in representation is still external,
still something foreign. But in Conception (the
third stage), the independence or the immediacy
of the object, which it has in sense-perception
and representation, is transformed into some
thing posited or mediated ; the Ego in thinking
penetrates the same," assimilating it, in fact
re-creating it and making it truly object. Thus
Conception (or Thought) is seen to return to the
tirst immediate Being given by the senses, and to

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 739

mediate it, completing the process. Such is the
difference in the same object sense-perceived
and conceived (or thought). The house in sense-
perception is something given immediately to the
senses ; but the house in Conception is no longer
merely this given something, but we get behind
it (so to speak), and behold its creative principle
in Thought. Now it is truly objective, when con
ceived or thought. Previously it was " an ap
pearance ; " not till we think it, do we reach the
truth of the object. " This objectivity or the
Conception is nothing other than the nature of
self-consciousness, and has no other moments or
determinations than the Ego itself" (V. 16).
Objective truth is, therefore, the very process of
Ego, or the Conception. This is the process
which we are to find in all things, if we would
know them in their truth. But this is properly
the psychological process, and really underlies
the logical, or is one with it.

Here, then, one is compelled to inquire
into the relation between Psychology and
Logic. Hegel says: "Concerning this matter,
the observation is to be made, at the very start,
that those forms, sense-perception, representa
tion, and the like, belong to self-conscious mind
which as such is not considered in logical
science " (V. 17). Here he omits the mention
of Conception or Thought, which is considered
in Psychology as well as in Logic, being really

740 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the third stage of both. " The pure (logical)
determinations of Being, Essence and Concep
tion, constitute, it is true, the foundation and
inner fabric of the Mind (or Ego); but this
Mind, when sense-perceiving, is in the determi-
nateness of Being, and, when representing (or
imaging), has risen out of Being to Essence."
Thus he parallels the first two stages of Logic
(Being and Essence) with the first two stages of
Mind (or Intellect in Psychology). He declares
that these concrete forms of Mind (sense-per
ception and representation) have as little to do
with the science of Logic as the forms of Nature
have (for instance Space and Time). Ac-
\ cording to him Logic determines both Nature
and Mind. But what about the third form, Con
ception? " As the act of the self-conscious
Understanding (or Ego) Conception too- is not
to be considered a part of logical science, which
treats Conception as it is in and for itself (or
objective)." This is peculiarly Hegelian; the
Conception in Logic must be divorced from
the Conception in the Mind (or Ego), which is
somehow to be put out of sight. Though the
Ego as subjective Conception has had to recreate
objective Conception, and put it into its catego
ries, whereby logical science arises, still that first
(or psychological) Conception must be in a
manner suppressed as something too individual
for the universality of Logic. Thus the latter

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 741

becomes the determinant of the Ego, though
this Ego has really determined it, and our phi
losopher establishes a new logical autocracy of
the universe. Now such autocracy has its valid
ity, yet not complete validity; it is, yet is not
the whole which Hegel claims for it; Logic as
science is not to cast out of its process the Ego
which made it, a$d which must be perpetually
re-making it in order that it be at all. Logic
after obtaining absolute authority in the City of
the Spirit, being called by Hegel just the Ab
solute in its highest potence, cannot be allowed
to turn around and thrust down the individual
Ego through which it rose to power, and which
is an essential part of its process. That is absolu
tism with a vengeance. It is true that the in
dividual Ego must be subordinate to the Law as
absolute and must obey the same. But the
other side is not to be left out ; that same in
dividual is ultimately to make the Law which he
obeys, and he is properly to obey none other in
any complete institutional condition. We can
not help thinking that the logical autocracy of
Hegel has its counterpart in the social and
political autocracy we still find in Europe, which,
however, is gradually throwing off this form
of absolutism.

We have given with greater detail the preced
ing analysis of Hegel's introduction to the Third
Fart of his Larger Logic ( Werke V.) because it

742 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

shows the philosopher at the Parting of the
Ways in the deepest depth of his thought.
Which road will he turn down and proceed upon
for the future, the philosophical or the psycho-
loo-ical? Just these two elements he has found

to

in his Conception which as creative Ego has
solved his primal problem of uniting Metaphy
sics and Logic in a common process with itself.
And he declares that the truth of the object is
just this process of Ego and contains no other
moments than those of self -consciousness. The
reader may well ask, why not then show this
Logic and with it show the whole objective
world as containing the process of the Ego
directly, that is psychologically? But Hegel at
once throws away the psychological element of
the Conception, though he knows that just that
has created his whole science. He seems afraid
of the Fichtean or Kantian solipsism (or subjec
tive idealism), and hence places all his emphasis
upon the metaphysical reality of Conception,
giving to its process, which is properly psycho
logical, three metaphysical categories (Universal,
Particular, Individual) which quite ignore and
even conceal its psychical origin. Thus his
Absolute Science as creative leaves out the very
principle that created it and keeps it going.
And then how can it be absolute if it leaves out
that or anything?

Here we see the deepest breach in Hegel's

HEGEL'S LOGIC- CONCEPTION. 743

thought, really the dualism between Philosophy
tmd Psychology, between the outgoing and in
coming world-disciplines. In Hegel Philosophy
here openly rejects Psychology even while
acknowledging that the latter has created it.

o o

Now we must be careful to consider that this
proceeds from no insincerity on the part of
Hegel, yea from nothing which can rightly be
called weakness in the man. He represents his
deepest self, as well as his age and Europe; he
represents Philosophy which has now evolved
itself to the point of the most piercing dualism,
which dualism, however, has been in it more or
less implicitly from the beginning. The great
ness of Hegel is that Philosophy herself takes
him as her final representative and expositor.
His voice is her voice, his character is her char
acter, at least as far as the Nineteenth Century
is concerned. And through him and also
through her the man of thought has to pass in
order to reach the Twentieth Century. There is
no road around them or over them. This move
ment of the Ages runs through them, and, we
think, out of them into the next stage, for which
they are the necessary preparation.

Thus Hegel, having penetrated to the last
Parting of the Ways before the Future, turns
down, or rather turns back, upon the Way of
Philosophy which he will reconstruct from the
beginning, showing its evolution in the Nine-

744 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

teenth Century and within himself through the
Principle of Evolution.

In the same Introduction (V. 25), Hegel comes to
speak of the relation of Logic to Nature and Mind.
Thus he has before him the philosophic Norm with its
threefold division — Logic, Nature and Mind. This
is fundamentally tbeoldGreekNorm of all Philosophy,
though in place of Metaphysics Hegel substitutes
Logic, which he expressly declares to be the customary
Metaphysics, as far as its general character is con
cerned. The sciences of Nature and Mind he calls
the concrete sciences, though they are created by
Logic, the abstract science, which is " the inner con
structive artist of the concrete sciences/' is what un
folds them into reality. Yet ' ' Logic is also the arche
typal producer " of the forms after which Nature and
Spirit are patterned, and is conceived as creative, or
the true genetic conception of the physical and spir
itual worlds. Thus Mind as Ego is created by it, yet
this same Ego has to recreate it by thinking in order
to attain to science or knowledge.

We here come to the division of the Conception,
which has been the secret power dividing and organ
izing both Being and Essence. But now it must be
grasped as that which divides and organizes itself. It
has been hitherto the determinant of the Other, but
now this determinant must determine itself. Hence
Conception is the self-determined, the free, or is that
which, in going forth from itself, is always with itself.
It is the totality seized as process, which must sepa
rate within itself (otherwise it could not proceed),
yet be one with itself in all its separation. Its sepa
rated parts must be, accordingly, what the Whole is, or

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 745

must have its process, in order to be identical with
it. Such is, in general, Hegel's Conception conceived,
or the Conception of the Conception (Begrifi des Be-
griffs). Now this we are to seize in its division,
or rather in its self-division, for its division does not
come from the outside, but is its own, is through itself.
Really it is Conception dividing and ordering Con
ception itself and so seeing what it itself is.

The division of Conception through itself is triple —
into subject, object, and the unity of the two, or
the return of object to subject. Hence Hegel's divi
sions of the Conception are Subjectivity, Objectivity,
and the Idea in the Hegelian sense. These divisions
we are to see unfolding out of the Conception as a
Whole, which divides within itself into its parts — Sub
jectivity, Objectivity and Idea; yet each of these
parts is the Whole and a Conception, and so has the
total process as its own. We shall, therefore, behold
each of these parts dividing within itself and unfold
ing in the threefold process which is Conception. Or
Conception is conceiving Conception and developing
it, which is thus its own genetic process.

Here occurs a difficulty in nomenclature. Hegel
uses this term Conception for no less than three differ
ent phases of his scheme. It is applied to this whole
sphere, then to the first stage of this sphere, then again
to the first form of this first stage. The inherent
difficulty of the work is thus heightened by a confu
sion which comes from using the same word for differ
ent grades of the same thought. This ambiguity we
found also in Being, and is not infrequent in Hegel.
It is true that he sometimes helps himself out by using
adjectives and other special designations in order to

746 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

keep his distinctions clear. Herein we shall follow
him and employ adjectives or brief descriptions to
mark these subtle divisions which so easily slide into
one another.

A. Subjectivity. It can be called also subjective
Conception, or Conception as subject. Hegel calls it
formal Conception, which develops the forms of itself,
or of thinking. Hence it includes formal logic with
its three spheres usually stated as Conception, Judg
ment and Reasoning. It is properly the ratiocinative
process put into its place in the Hegelian Logic. It is
called Subjectivity since the subject or Ego is dealing
with its own shapes; Conception, unfolding in itself
is determining the forms of Conception, the categories
into which it precipitates the stages of its own process.
Yet each of these stages is again the total process.
This fact may be indicated by putting stress upon the
subjective Processes in the following outline, which
are three — the first or germinal one (Conception
proper), the second or separative one (Judgment),
and the third or returning one (Syllogism).

(1) The first subjective Process of Conception as a
Whole is still called Conception by Hegel though with
a special emphasis {Conception as such in his smaller
Logic). Conception now seizes its own inner process
as self-conscious and puts its three stages into meta
physical categories — Universality, Particularity and
Individuality. That is, Conception, though it Is the
Ego just here, throws its own process out of itself and
makes the same the process of all existence, including
itself. So it is universal and indeed creates the Uni
versal. But this Universal as Conception divides
within itself and becomes particular, being separated

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 747

from itself and put in opposition to itself. Thus the
division of the Conception at this stage produces the
Particular. But this Particular is a moment or part
of the Whole and so has the process of the Whole in
itself, whereby it becomes individual. But the Indi
vidual must have within it the total process of Con
ception and so is universal, which is a return to the
first stage. Thus Hegel evolves his three fundamental
categories (a) Universality (6) Particularity and (c)
Individuality as the three stages of Conception in its
first subjective Process.

This, as already stated, is the germinal Pro
cess of Hegel's Logic, and indeed of Hegel's
whole Philosophy.' Here is the embryonic cell out
of which his entire system unfolds. Really it is the
Conception, the one basic Conception at which we have
now arrived — the Conception of all Conception, —
and all the rest is Conception in some form. That is,
the Universe and all its parts, even the smallest, is a
Conception and has to be grasped ultimately as a
Conception by the Conception. It is the original
genetic act of the All- Mother when " she conceives
and bears a son." The Universal, the Particular and
the Individual form the primal creative process, with
which Thought truly begins, for Being and Essence
were but abstract, preliminary stages of the Mind
penetrating to its inner generative principle, to its own
Self.

Does this Conception exist as an actual object
which can be pointed out? Already we have found
Hegel intimating more than once that it is the Ego.
Every individual as person is a manifestation of it,
every act of self-consciousness is a recreation of the

748 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Universe in little, an embryonic reproduction of the
All. The Ego, in order to be, must be the universal
Process, or the Process as universal. This is the
first fact of it, the fact of universality, which ulti
mately can only mean the creative Process of the
Universal. But creation means separation, division,
particularity, which has been noted as the second
stage. Yet such a state of division cannot remain, it
separates from itself or negates itself and so returns
to the Universal whereby it becomes Individuality.
Here lies (specially in connection with the second
stage) what Hegel calls the Dialectic, the movement
of Conception into and out of the Finite, the Par
ticular, the Negative, ending in the completion of the
Process.

It is to be again observed that Hegel was not the
first to reach the Universal. It belongs to Greek
Philosophy and was the grand attainment of the
supreme philosophical Period (the Athenian) of
antiquity. Socrates, Plato and Aristotle elaborated
and unfolded the Universal. The fundamental for
mula of them all may be given in the statement
that the Essence of Being is the Universal (or the
Conception). Yet each of these philosophers shows a
different stage in its development (see our Ancient
European Philosophy, pp. 204, 211; also the whole
account of the mentioned philosophers). The old
Greek thinkers, however, regarded this process of
Conception (or Thought) as One with Being immedi
ately; not even Aristotle seems to be conscious that
his principle of Thought-thinking-Thought (noesis
noeseos) has any reference to the subjective Ego.
But Hegel is aware of this ; he makes his Universal

HEGEL'S LOGIC— CONCEPTION. 749

an abstraction from the self-knowing Ego, which he
thus metaphysicizes consciously. With him the pro
cess of Conception as universal, particular and indi
vidual, is thrown out from the Self and formulated in
its metaphysical abstractness. But after doing this
and knowing that he has done it and sa}ing that he
has done it, he drops the part of the Ego ; he will not
take it as an element of the process which it has created
and must always recreate in order to know. In other
words, Hegel is not psychological, but philosophical
(or metaphysical).

Now it is emphatically our thought that this Process
of Conception is to be brought back to the Ego, to
the primal source whence it originally sprang, in
order to drink perpetually of its own creative foun
tain-head. The abstraction thus is eternally revivified
out of the source of life itself, of all creation. We can
not do without the precious heritage of Universality,
Particularity and Individuality, derived from the old
Greeks, transmitted through the medieval thinkers,
and wrought over by the moderns till these terms have
become an ingrown element of thought and language.
But they need to be psychologized. They must be
seen as the inner process of the Ego creating its own
purest forms of self- activity. They are indeed the
necessary shapes which the Ego takes in all thinking ;
they show the way it works and must work. So we
can in a sense say that this process (Universal, Par
ticular, and Individual), dominates the Ego, giving
to it its law, and prescribing the way it must go. Such
is the side of necessity, of the Absolute, of autocracy,
»the side of Hegel. But on the other hand it is the
Ego which makes this process, which dominates it, and

750 M ODEEN E UK OPE AN PHIL OSOPH Y .

establishes the law which it obeys, creating the very
Constitution by which it is controled. Now this
self-legislative power of the Ego must be acknowl
edged in our Psychology as fully as it has been ac
knowledged in our government. Such is the side of
self-determination, of institutional freedom, of democ
racy, which also must have its science of thought,
which is Psychology. This is not, however, the old
Psychology, rational or experimental, but is the
science of the Psychosis, the threefold Process of the
Ego which explicitly determines the above Process of
Conception and is not simply determined by it.
(Those who may wish to see these three stages of
Conception — Universal, Particular, and Individual —
psychologized and thus brought back to the psychical
Process of the Ego from which Hegel separated them
and metaphysicised them, can see the exposition in
our Psychology and Psychosis, pp. 478-495.)

(2) The second subjective Process of Conception
is called Judgment by Hegel, using a traditional
term of Formal Logic. The German word is Urtheil,
whose etymology suggests the meaning of primordial
division, or the original part. It is thus the second
or separative* stage of Conception as Subjectivity.
"Judgment can, therefore, be called the realization
of Conception, in so far as reality designates the pass
ing into a determinate existence/' The previous
process of Conception was simply that of the subjec
tive Ego within itself; but in Judgment the stages of
this process step forth as separate products and are
uttered in distinct categories, which, however, are
still united in thought and in expression. * ' The nature
of this realization of Conception is, first, that the

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 751

moments (or stages) of Conception (in its first form)
are independent totalities through individuality. But
in the second place these totalities are joined together
in Conception which is their relation, and which is now
Judgment." But these independent totalities which
are still a unity, must be named or categorized ; they
are called in the present connection Subject and Pred
icate, each of which is separate and a Whole taken
by itself, yet both form a new Whole which is a
proposition or Judgment (V. 64).

This is manifestly a new stage of separation, differ
ent from yet closely related to the previous stage.
In the latter we had conception, separating itself
into the Universal and the Individual primarily
(V. 12) as implicitly subjective. But now Conception
has become explicit, though still subjective, a Judg
ment. That is, Judgment realizes or utters the as
yet immediate Conception which is, of course, the
germ of such utterance. Hence, as the process of
Conception separates itself into the Universal and the
Individual, so the process of Judgment separates
itself into Subject and Predicate. " Judgment is the
division of Conception through itself; this unity (of
Conception) is, therefore, the ground from which it
(Judgment) is regarded according to its true objec
tivity. Judgment (Urtheil) is accordingly the origi-
ginal dividing into parts (Theilung) of the original
One." (V. 66.) But after such division comes uni
fication, or the return to the primal One of Conception ;
this unifying of the separated Subject and Predicate is
expressed by the Copula, with which the process of
Judgment is completed.

Thus the second Process of Conception has un-

752 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

folded out of the first, which showed the Universal
(or Generic) developing into the Individual. But
now the Individual goes back to its origin, and asserts
itself as universal. That is, Judgment explicitly de
clares that the Individual is universal (or generic),
or that the process of the Individual is to return
and to re-create the Universal from which it originally
sprang. Such is the essence of every Judgment, of
every proposition uttered by the human mind. The
act of Ego in expressing itself has just this funda
mental form: the Conception as the Universal (gen
eric or genetic) unfolds the Individual, which as
Conception also (or Ego) goes back to and recreates
iis origin, the Universal. To be sure, Hegel does
not give this exact statement to his formulation of
Judgment. But it underlies what he says and it may
be developed out of his basic Judgment: the Indi
vidual is the Universal. This is, however, a philo
sophical formula which needs to be distinctly psychol
ogized by throwing it back into the process of the
Ego whence it'came. Every Conception must become
a Judgment, and the Universe is a vast concourse of
Judgments, being judged by the Ego after the inner
most norm of itself, which is the Psychosis.

Hegel gives four classes of Judgments : (a) that
of Existence ; (6) of Reflection ; (c) of Necessity ;
(d) of Conception. Each of these has its own three
stages.

(3) The third subjective Process of Conception is
called by Hegel Syllogism or Conclusion, for the term
(Schluss) means both. Etymologicaliy in German it
has an opposite meaning to Judgment, since it signi
fies a bringing together while Judgment means sepa-

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION 753

ration. It suggests the restoration of the unity of
Conception after its division in Judgment.

How is this brought about? The subsumption of
the Individual under the Universal in Judgment is
direct, their unity is hence an immediate one. But
in the Syllogism this subsumption is mediated, is
through a reason or ground which is formally the
middle term. Judgment as yet gives no reason, it is
the autocratic judge who puts down the Individual
under the Universal. But in the Syllogism (or Con
clusion) is contained the mediating word which con
nects the two extremes by a common link.

But when we come to look into this mediating word
or link, we find that it too is a Judgment, or an im
mediate subsumption of the Individual under the
Universal. Thus between the extremes (the major
and minor terms) a mean or middle term is interjected,
making a series or hierarchy of subsumptions. In
each case, however, the Individual is subsumed under
the Universal, and the mediation between two imme
diate Judgments is but another immediate Judgment.
Thus the mediation in the Syllogism is still external,
in fact contradictory. To mediate the Individual
with the Universal, the Individual must be subsumed
under the Universal in the act of mediation. If the
original problem underlying the Syllogism is to remove
the harshness of immediately subsuming the Individ
ual under the Universal, then the Syllogism has only
repeated in its mediation the original problem. The
mediator (if we may personify this process) commits
the same acts in essence against the Individual, which
he is called upon to mediate. Still this process has in
it the formal side of mediation.
48

754 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY

Hegel is an exceedingly warm friend of the Syllogism.
''• It is the Rational, since it is Conception completely
posited (or realized). But not only is the Syllogism
rational, but everything rational is a Syllogism."
(V. 115.) The universe as rational must be a Syllo
gism, so is all philosophy of it, specially Hegel's
philosophy, whose supreme work from this point of
view is to subsume the Individual under the Universal
through a middle term which is itself an immediate
subsumption. Europe is syllogistic in the same gen
eral sense ; it will not crush the Individual under the
Universal immediately, as does the Orient (in the
form of State, Religion, Law, and Institutions gener
ally) ; it will have some form of harmonizing and
mediating the Individual with the Universal. Still
this mediatorial act is the subsumption of the Indi
vidual, not through himself, but externally, more or
less. We may say that the Oriental Consciousness
takes the form of an immediate Judgment, while the
European consciousness is a Syllogism.

In his lesser Logic Hegel says: " The Syllogism is
the essential ground of all truth, and the definition of
the Absolute now is that it is a Syllogism. All is
a Syllogism " (VI. 345). That is, the syllogistic
process is the absolute or divine one, God is a Syl
logism. Every single thing is a Syllogism in itself,
is to be mediated with other things by the Syllogism
and with the All which is itself a Syllogism. Thus we
behold a syllogistic Universe, which is fundamentally
hierarchical, as we see in the example of the medieval
mind and its devotion to formal Logic, whose acme is
the Syllogism.

It is manifest, nowever, that the Syllogism does not

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 755

completely mediate the Individual with the Universal,
the Self with Law, or Man with God. The missing
point is that the Individual in the Syllogism does not
posit its own mediatorial principle, does not create or
re-create the power which subsumes it. Here, then, is
at bottom the same difficulty which we found in Judg
ment as the ultimate principle: the Individual (or the
Ego) does not determine the Universal, even as
mediator, which determines it. That is, the Uni
versal as middle term, is still subsumptive directly of
the Individual, though it has been itself subsumed
under the summum genus. But the mediatorial prin
ciple must be finally determined not by what is above
it but by what is below it, by the Individual which it
determines. Thus dawns a real world of freedom,
which cannot be given by the Syllogism or its con
sciousness, since it but half-way furnishes the mediat
ing link between what subsumes and is subsumed.

What now is the situation in regard to the Syllogism ?
Evidently it has failed to mediate the Individual with
the Universal in an adequate manner, which problem
really underlies the whole sphere of Subjectivity,
whose inherent contradiction has thus become ex
plicit. The statement is that the Universal is to
subsume the Individual; but who is it that makes
the statement, thinks this thought? Just the Indi
vidual as Ego, Subject. So the Individual has been
secretly unfolding and expressing this Universal
which openly is affirmed to control and subsume it
(the Individual). Thus the Individual all the while
has been implicitly making the power which subordi
nates it. Or the subject, subjecting itself to the
Universal, subjects that which subjects it, and brings

756

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

to a conclusion this whole process of Subjectivity in
its three stages: Conception, Judgment, Syllogism.
For the subjective is no longer that which is sub
jected merely, but has become also that which
subjects.

What is the next stage ? Evidently the implicit sub
ject which has become explicit; the Individual which
has hitherto been subsumed by the Universal, must
now subsume its subsumer, determine its determinant.
The Syllogism must take up into its process the syllo-
gizer making it. The Ego having recognized itself as
the maker of the Syllogism which subsumes the Ego,
must now consciously assert its place in a new order,
which is to our mind, Reason. (See this entire sphere
of Subjectivity — Conception, Judgment, Reasoning
or Syllogism — unfolded psychologically under the
name of Ratiocination as properly the second stage of
the Process of Thought, whose third stage is the
before mentioned Reason, in Psychology and Psy
chosis. )

Hegel gives three kinds of Syllogisms : (a) that of
Existence; (6) that of Reflection; (c) that of Neces
sity. There is no Syllogism corresponding to the
fourth kind of Judgment.

To these we may well add the philosophical Norm
as the absolute Syllogism, which is the conclusion that
man (or Mind) must return to God (or the Infinite).
Thus God, Nature, and Man are the three terms,
really the Syllogism of Syllogisms, Summum Genus
or the Universal as such being the first Term. The
Universe is truly the primordial Syllogism, or (as
before said) the Syllogism of all Syllogisms. But
when formalized, it is cut off from its source and thus

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. '57

made abstract; the creative element is left out of the
Syllogism and there is the mere subsumption of the
lesser under the greater.

Of course Hegel has no such Syllogism ; in fact
there can be (properly speaking) no such Syllogism,
since it has no subsumption of the Individual by the
Universal, except with the counterpart of this move
ment. Nor does Hegel rise out of his subjective Pro
cess to Reason — that would be psychological. So
he makes a skip at this point from Subject to Object
and gives us a surprise by introducing a Philosophy of
Nature into his purely logical Process. This skip has
always caused doubt and trouble to his followers.
For the Philosophy of Nature properly springs from
and hence comes after the total Logic according to
Hegel himself, who has, therefore, two Philosophies
of Nature at different points in his system, to be sure
somewhat differently ordered. But let us make the
skip with Hegel into his new domain and see what we
can find there.

B. Objectivity. This is the second phase or part of
the movement of Conception as a whole, the objective
process thereof . We may deem it real Conception, or
Conception as a reality, in contrast to formal Concep
tion which is the preceding (subjective) phase, in which
Conception develops its own inner Forms, often called
Forms of Thought. But now these inner Forms are
thrown out into the world and become Objects, sepa
rate from the Subject and from one another. Thus
they have independence on the one hand, and are im
mediately existent; yet on the other they are posited
by the Subject or Conception and still show its process.

Here, then, we may deduce the characteristic of the

758 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

Object; it is an immediate entity in form, yet it is
mediated — mediated still by Conception. In Sub
jectivity Conception (as Ego) divided within itself and
unfolded its own shapes, which in all their separation
were still connected together directly by the Subject.
But now this subjective thread of connection is cut by
the Subject itself and each shape is posited, or medi
ated as immediate by the same.

Thus Objectivity is twofold and self-opposed, has a
positive contradiction in the statement of it as an im
mediate (object) which is mediated, as an independ
ent something which is none the less dependent. Or
it is Subjectivity turned inside out, yet through itself,
and still remaining Conception with its process.

Such is the general relation, according to Hegel,
between the subjective and objective Process of Con
ception. * ' The Object is the one undetermined Whole
(the side of the Universal) ; but it is also the separa
ted, the differenced (the side of the Particular), and
so falls asunder into the indefinite multiplicity of the
world, in which each object is an individual (the side
(f individuality), a concrete, independent, complete
entity." (VI. 361.) Herein we see the process of Con
ception as objective, grasped indeed as the external
Universe, which still has its internal process of Con
ception. So Hegel says that the Object is God, is the
Absolute.

The movement of Subjectivity has been all along
toward Objectivity, toward getting out of itself into
reality. Such a movement is implied in the first pro
cess of Conception, when it particularizes itself of its
own inner necessity. Then Judgment is a more
advanced stage in which the Individual is expressly

I

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 759

present, yet subsumed under the Universal immedi
ately. Finally the Syllogism seeks to mediate this
immediacy through the middle term, which, however,
is itse an immediate subsumption of the Individua
under the Universal by the Subject (or Ego). Thus
the Syllogism mediates the Individual as immediate ;
such an Individual is Object, according to Hegel.

But now the movement of Objectivity is toward
Subjectivity, which it seeks to recover and put inside
of itself. Still it will not be the first Subjectivity but
a new one, which Hegel names the Idea. This is the
Conception adequately realized ; in the forms of Ob
jectivity it is inadequately realized, these forms do not
fully represent Conception, though advancing always
in that direction.

But the Idea lies ahead of us ; we must set forth
the stages of Objectivity, which are primarily three.
We start with the object as immediate and separated
while the mediation is external (mechanical); but it
slowly moves toward internal mediation in this sphere,
becoming more and more a manifestation of the Pro
cess of the subject.

(1) The first objective Process of Conception. This
is Mechanism in which the objects are independent
and outside of one another. Still the Conception
controls them, though externally, (a) The mechani
cal object, individual and impenetrable; (6) The
finite mechanical Process (between bodies) ; (c) The
absolute mechanical Process (the individual center
has a universal center controlling it within the totality
of bodies, as in the solar system).

(2) The second objective Process of Conception, or
Cheraism. This stage is separative, since the Object

760

MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

now divides within itself, separates into its constitu
ents. The outside division of Mechanism between
Objects, has turned inside the Object — a kind of
Judgment or Subject and Predicate of Nature, one
side subordinating the other as in acid and alkali.
The object is mediated from within: (a) The chemi
cal Object; (6) The chemical Process; (c) Transi
tion: when the object mediated within (chemically)
is determined from without (mechanically) ; thus arc
suggested the doctrines of immanence and transcend
ence.

(3 ) The third objective Process of Conception
Hegel designates as Teleology. The Object is still im
mediate, though it has a process in itself which, how
ever, has a design determined from without. Thus
it is a unity of Mechanism and Chemism ; according
to Hegel: " The End or Design is the Conception
which has become free from the immediacy in which
it was sunk in Chemism and exists in and for itself
over against the immediate Object " (VI. 374). It
is therefore posited or mediated through Chemism
whose process externalized is the teleologic. (a)
The subjective End; (6) The Means; (c) The real
ized End. This, when it becomes Objective with
the Conception inside of it and creating it, is Idea,
or the Conception realized.

C. Idea. The Conception having attained reality
is Idea (this is Hegel's use of the word which is un
usual). Conception as subject has moved through
the object, and has become one with it (subject-
object). Or the transcendent Conception in Tele
ology enters the object as the All and becomes its
immanent process. Or the Idea is the immediate as

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 761

such (real) mediating itself. Thus " Being (the Im
mediate) has reached the significance of Truth,"
for "anything has Truth in so far as it is Idea"
(V. 229), otherwise it is not true (in Hegel's sense).
Idea is the Conception not simply objectified (made
into different objects), but realized (making itself
object and forming the latter's process).

Conception as Idea will show three stages — vital,
recognitive and absolute.

(1) First Process of Conception as Idea is Life
(the vital, organic Process) which is the Conception
immediately realized in the object, not yet grasping
itself as Process (as it does in the Ego). The divi
sion of the Conception is not from the inside, but is ex
ternal in the members of the living body, each of
which is alive through the Whole, of which it is a
member, but not in itself. Life shows the threefold
Process: (a) The living Individual ;*"The Process of
Life in separation and return through organs ; (3)
The Genus or Genetic Process — the reproduction of
the Individual externally — which Process, when it
becomes internal, is the next stage.

(2) Second Process of Conception as Idea is here
called Recognition (Erltennen). We have now reached
that which can recognize itself: divide itself within
itself, and take this division of itself back into itself
and thus know itself. This is the primal separation
(Hegel's Urtheil) of the second stage of the Idea
which still makes itself one by returning into itself.
"Thought, Spirit, Self-consciousness are designations
of the Idea" as Recognition (V. s. 255). In other
words Hegel here evolves the Ego out of the preceding

762 MODE EN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

Process of Life, in which this separation between sub
ject and subject-object is as yet but implicit.

And still the recognitive Process of Conception, or
the self-conscious Ego, is one-sided as different from
the outside world. Its inner movement is to overcome
this difference, which movement Hegel makes of two
kinds.

(a) Recognition a second time, which is now the
Ego taking up and assimilating the external world of
objects "into its Representation and Thought" —
the theoretic activity of the Idea (VI. s. 399). Here
Hegel again commits his too frequent sin against expo
sition by giving the same name to different stages.
Moreover, there is a good word for this second or special
form of Recognition : it is the Intellect proper. Later
in his Psychology Hegel will call it Intelligence. The
reader may well note at this point that Hegel's Logic is
becoming psychological. The Ego has been deduced,
and its first great activity, that of Intellect, has been
designated. We even catch stray hints of the leading
subdivisions of Intellect — sense perception (An-
schatien), representation (Vorstellen) and thought
(Denken). Still these are not Hegel's explicit divi
sions of this sphere, which are analytic and synthetic.

(&) The Will or the act of Willing (Wollen) — the
practical activity of the Idea. Now the Ego, in
stead of taking up the outer world into itself, moves
outward and transforms that world, putting into the
same its own purpose and end. Thus the Will seeks
to make the world good, or to realize the Idea of
the Good, the Good being the Process of Spirit or
Ego objectively realized. On the other hand Intellect
seeks to find the Truth of the object, to realize within

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 763

itself the Idea of the True, which is also the Process
of the Spirit or Ego beheld in the object.

Such are the two formulations found in this sphere,
the one being psychological (Intellect, Will), the
other being philosophical (the Idea of the True and of
the Good). Hegel uses the latter in the nomencla
ture of his laiger Logic, but he employs the former
in that of his smaller (and later) Logic. The change
is significant, showing that Hegel during his theoreti
cal Period (before he went to Berlin) was becoming
more and more psychological — a fact of which we
shall find numerous other indications, specially in the
Encyclopedia.

Such is the dualism here getting manifest, that be
tween Philosophy and Psychology, as the Evolution
of the Logic draws toward its close. Moreover the
division now is dual instead of triadal — the only
important stage of the Logic in which this takes
place. And one of the leading subdivisions here is
also dual (analytic and synthetic). Hegel seems to
be getting badly shaken up toward the conclusion of
his work. What is the cause of it? Does he glimpse
the other principle (the psychological) breaking up
through his metaphysical scheme and demanding its
total ^re-construction ? At least the Logic seems to
be undergoing a gradual metamorphosis into Psy
chology. Intellect and Will are here in their own
name, and we may obtain the realm of Feeling partially
from the preceding stage (Life). Nor should we
fail to add that in this whole sphere of Conception
there is an underlying movement of the philosophic
Norm : the purely logical and metaphysical element
in subjective Conception; the physical element or

764

MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Philosophy of Nature in the objective Conception ;
and now comes Man as individual Ego in the Idea,
which Ego is next to grasp the absolute, self-con
scious Idea which is also Ego.

(3) Third Process of Conception as Idea is called
by Hegel the absolute Idea. It is Conception which
knows itself as the self-knowing Absolute, dividing
within itself and still remaining itself in such division.
" The absolute Idea is alone Being, imperishable Life,
self-conscious Truth and all Truth." It contains
within itself all Finitude, Determinateness, Negation
as canceled, and " is the single theme and content of
Philosophy" (V. 318). With such intensity does
Hegel assert the absoluteness of the Idea that some-
timqs he borders on making it the all-devouring pan
theistic One : " Everything else is delusion, darkness,
caprice, transitoriness " — namely the finite world.

Thus the absolute Idea is the self-separating and
self-returning Process of Conception or Ego in all
and in the All. It is the Universe grasped as self-
conscious, or as self-mediating absolutely. Self-
mediation is not now outside of the object as in
Recognition, but is inside ; it is the Whole as absolute
self-mediation which has no objective world beyond
itself to recognize through Intellect, and no subject
ive world within itself to realize through Will. For
both are one and one Process of the Absolute, which
is Intellect whose thought is Will, and Will whose act
is Intellect. It is not only the cycle of the Universe,
but cycle-producing, with "periphery composed of
a vast multitude of lesser cycles whose entirety is a
grand succession of Evolutions bending around into
itself."

HEGEVS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 765

It is manifest that Hegel has here reached the same
goal — the Absolute — which he attained through his
History of Philosophy and his Logic. Such are the
three roads along which the evolutionary Hegel has
traveled to the same destination. But as the roads
are different, the books are different. Along the
first route we beheld all the philosophers with their
doctrines personally pass before us ; the second route
unrolled before us an inner scenery of the Forms of
Consciousness or Appearances of the Ego to itself ;
but the third journey has led us through the bodi
less Shapes of the Absolute itself which underlie all
existence.

Such is the Logic of Hegel, which attempts to teach
us the language of the self-conscious All in its Evo
lution unto itself as it thinks and even talks to itself,
thus projecting into speech the logical categories. It
is the absolute Idea which makes its own language in
order to know itself adequately ; in this language man
participates, having to remake it for himself whereby
he can communicate with man, which renders human
association possible. No individual man ever made a
language at first hand, though he must re-make it.
What then produces it primarily? Spirit (Geist) utters
speech for all in common which each has to learn.
Ordinary speech is to express the objects of sense
and the relations of life. But logical speech is dif
ferent : it utters the Pure Thought of the absolute
Idea in its unfolding into self-consciousness, and
furnishes its categories to man who is moving in the
same direction. Hegel would have to say that God's
speech to man now is the Logic, though He may have
talked differently to Adam in the Garden a long time

7 G 6 MODE EN E UR OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

ago. Hegel says that each category may be taken as
one definition of the Absolute in the process of
defining itself; this goes on till at last it reaches
Hegel's definition, when it turns back and includes
all its definitions within itself as its own Evolution
into self-consciousness. Properly through Hegel the
Absolute has for the first time adequately defined
itself, having become now the self-conscious Self
which knows all its evolutionary stages up to the
absolute Idea which is just this self-knowing Self.

The evolutionary Hegel has now reached his cul
mination and finality, having evolved the absolu'e
Idea upon three different lines, and therein expressed
the fundamental thought of the Century. The Abso
lute is Evolution, is the outcome, and this Evolution
moves forward till it attains the absolute Idea as
self-consoious, that is, conscious of its evolutionary
Self, and categorized and ordered in all of its stages.
(Unfortunately the reader of English possesses no
printed complete translations of Hegel's two chief
evolutionary works, the Phenomenology and the Logic,
though translated portions of both can be found scat
tered through American and British Hegelian Litera
ture. There are, however, unprinted translations of
these two most original books of Hegel, complete,
we are informed, made by Gov. Brockmeyer, of St.
Louis.)

Having thus evolved the Absolute on all the im
portant, if not possible, lines, the author must ask :
What next? What are we going to do with it? This
question arose in Hegel's mind with tremendous
pressure, and brought him face to face with the
grand difficulty of his system. For now he has to

HEGEUS LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 767

meet the problem of creation itself, the transcend
ence and immanence of the creative principle, the
theistic and the pantheistic solutions of the problem
of the Universe. The difficulty centers itself in the
movement from the absolute Idea to Nature, from the
Infinite to the Finite, from the Perfect to the Imper
fect. Already in Frankfort we can see that he was
worrying over the matter, while he was engaged in
putting together the philosophical Norm. But at the
end of the Phenomenology as well as of the larger Logic
he grapples with the question in a manner which must
be here briefly noted.

Hegel says in the closing pages of his Phenome
nology that the self-knowing Spirit in the phenomeuo-
logical process " has not won its complete freedom,
since it still stands in relation to the object," which
makes it limited. " This it knows, knows its own lim
itation, which means that it knows how to sacrifice
itself," to give up its own absoluteness. "Such a sacri
fice is alienation " of itself from itself, whereby it drops
down " to a free accidental happening " or to Chance,
in which it " beholds its pure Self as Time and its
Being as Space." Thus " the alienated (or outered)
Spirit" as logical or absolute, is Nature, and has
won its freedom by becoming " a free accidental hap
pening." But here one may well ask, What has
become of the Absolute, thus 'k let loose " into free
dom which is Chance and Caprice?

At the end of the larger Logic (V. 341-3) Hegel
has to grapple with the same problem. After giving
a brief hint that the last stage, the absolute Idea,
must go back to the first, which is Pure Being, and
thus complete the logical cycle, he passes to the far

768 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

deeper difficulty, the transition to Nature. But now
at the start he rejects the very notion of transition in
the present case, for he sees that his Absolute is not
absolute if it can go over to something else. What will
he do? " The pure Idea (absolute) is rather absolute
Liberation, for which there is no longer anv immediate
determination which is not also Conception (medi
ated) ; in this freedom (now won) there is no transi
tion." But the difficulty will come up: the absolute
Idea as logical was not free before this Liberation ;
it must have been limited, finite, unfree till it broke
over the bounds of the Logic and liberated itself in
Nature. Thus Hegel's Absolute, after its long evolu
tion through the Dialectic, becomes itself dialectical
at the close of the Logic, and after having swallowed
everything else, gets swallowed in turn by some
bigger monster which now suddenly appears under
neath it, rising into activity. What is this new
colossal apparition?

Perhaps we shall see when we have finished the
preceding citation. "The transition is rather to be
grasped thus: the Idea freely lets itself loose, abso
lutely certain of itself and reposing in itself," and
so is "the externality of Space and Time," or the
beginning of Nature, which is the second stage of the
new and larger Process of which the logical Idea is
the first. But there is still a third stage in which the
" absolute Idea completes its Liberation through
itself in the science of Spirit (Ego) and finds the
highest Conception of itself in logical Science," to
which the Spirit (or Ego) returns in order to " com
plete its Liberation." Thus we have the cycle —
Logic, Nature, Spirit — and the evolutionary Hegel has

HEGEL'S LOGIC — CONCEPTION. 769

become the encyclopedic, having evolved into the philo
sophic Norm which he is now to fill and to re-create
with his evolutionary Idea. The Absolute has shown
ilself finite, enslaved, and needing Liberation from
its unfree condition, which enfranchisement and com
pletion it evidently obtains by becoming a stage of
the larger Process, the total Norm. But is it, then,
absolute ?

Plainly we see that Hegel tries to save its absolute
ness by calling its Transition to Nature and to Spirit
a Liberation ; but does this really help him out? His
diffi "ulty is like that of Plotinus, who also makes his
absolute One liberate itself or overflow into Man and
Nature. The words used by Hegel remind us of the
Neo-Platonic nomenclature (jsich entlassen, the Abso
lute lets itself loose; also sick entscliessen, it re
solves itself or unlocks itself). Undoubtedly the
problem before Hegel's mind is the theological con
tradiction between God's Transcendence and Imma
nence, which the philosopher tries to s )lve by
Philosophy. But Philosophy here reveals the same
dualism which Theology has labored under from the
beginning. Neither of these two world-disciplines
solves the problem ; can the third ?

But in the evolution of Hegel himself we have
reached a new stage in which Evolution is no longer
his fundamental principle, but subordinate.
49

770 MODERN EUE OPE A Y PHIL 0 S OPHY.

II. THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL.

Our philosopher, evolving the Absolute along
three different roads, finds, when he has reached
it, a conflict each time, adualistic struggle. For
this Absolute, the grand end of Evolution, he
discovers to be itself evolutionary, showing itself
to be a part or stage of still another and higher
Process, which will have to be unfolded in still
another book. In Hegel's own soul we can see
this struggle between the evolutionary and the
normative, or encyclopedic ; we may call it meta
phorically the struggle between the rectilineal
and the circular. The latter is embodied in the
philosophical Norm transmitted from the ages ;
the former is the new Idea of the Century now
to be ingrafted upon this Norm, which, appar
ently a closed circle, must be made to expand
itself and to take up new processes.

In the fall of 1816 Hegel left his position at
Niirnberg and went to Heidelberg, where he had
been appointed professor. The last volume of
his Logic had been published just before his de
parture. The following year he issued a com
pendium of his whole Philosophy which he called
Encyclopedia of the Philosophic Sciences, which
still remains the most complete statement of the
total system of the author. Moreover it shows a

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 771

new stage in the development of the philosopher
which had indeed been long preparing, and
had already given numerous written signs of
itself, but which now definitely rises to
supremacy. Hegel has worked out of the
stage of pure logical Evolution, which he
sees to be dialectical if taken by itself. Hence
it must be supplemented, and made a stage
of the complete cycle of the sciences. Thus the
evolutionary Hegel moves forth into the encyclo
pedic Hegel, and reveals anew stage of himself,
and produces a new kind or book. ( Werke VI.-
VII. , the latter in two volumes. The Logic
(lesser) and the Mind (Geist) have been trun.s-
lated by Wallace ; the Philosophy of Nature is
untranslated.)

I. We must understand, however, that this change
is not sudden, but has been growing a long time.
Hegel is indeed a slow grower, and shows all his lead
ing stages in succession ; he is philosophical Evolution
incorporate. The germ of the encyclopedic Hegel
may be traced far back into his revolutionary Period.
For the basic movement of the Encyclopedia is the
philosophic Norm, which Hegel had already grasped
at Frankfort, and which he must have been working
at a good while before. But such is the pres
ent fact: Hegel now seizes the transmitted three
fold Norm which Philosophy has employed since the
time of the old Greeks, and pours into it his own
original thought as content. His evolutionary works
are to become encyclopedic, forming no longer a

7 72 MODE EN E UE OPE AN PHIL 0 SOPH Y.

progressive line, or three such lines, toward and to
the Absolute, but a rounded, self-returning totality.

We can trace the development of the Hegelian
Norm in three considerable publications, each of
which has the triple division: Logic (and Metaphys
ics), Nature, Mind or Spirit.

(1) The System (1798-1800) as it is called by Ro-
senkranz (Hegel's Leben, s. 99. See also in the pres
ent book, p. 620). This shows Hegel more as the
student, appropriating the past, though he already
gives numerous indications of his own system. Still
he has gotten the Norm and will never let go of it,
since it helps him out of the negative Eighteenth Cen
tury and reconnects him with Philosophy and with the
past of the science, with the History of Philosophy.

(2) The Propaedeutic, written at Niirnberg (1808)
for the use of the advanced class at the Gymnasium.
Hegel has settled the main divisions of his Norm, but
he is still struggling over the union of Metaphysics
and Logic.

(3) The Encyclopedia, which is Hegel's word for the
new form of his work. It is a Greek compound which
we may translate circular Education, though in mod
ern usage it has quite lost any such meaning. Hegel,
however, restores the old Hellenic suggestion that
science completed forms a cycle. Moreover, it must
be internally connected and thus show itself organic.
An Encyclopedia has indeed become the most external
of all means of knowledge, being put together simply
according to the letters of the alphabet. But Hegel's
Encyclopedia is very different : it is the conception of
the Universe dividing within itself and returning to
itself, thus forming the cycle of Thought as absolute.

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 773

The various parts of this great cycle are the special
sciences, each of which must also be conceived as
cyclical. In this respect, as in many others, Hegel's
work furnishes the strongest contrast to the French
Encylopedia of the Eighteenth Century, whose writers
were the chief apostles and propagators of the En
lightenment (Aufklarung), and spread the negative
spirit of the age throughout Europe. That Hegel
should have called his book by this name shows his
ambition and probably his intention of devoting the
rest of his life to producing a vast German work which
would supplant the French one. The further thought
of making Education cyclical has not been realized to
this day, though it certainly is a very suggestive
pedagogical principle.

II. In the Introduction to his Encyclopedia, Hpgel
has given some suggestive hints for the student.
Says he: " Each of the parts of Philosophy is a phi
losophic Whole," even if it be a part ; " it is a circle
which encloses itself within itself," self-returning and
thus self-completing; "but the philosophic Idea
therein is in a particular determination or element."
Each special form of the Idea must show the whole
Idea of which it is a form or part. "The single
circle breaks through for the reason that it is in itself
the totality," and cannot remain in its limited, finite
sphere. *' The Whole, therefore, manifests itself as
a circle of circles of which each (circle) is a necessary
stage." Thus "the total Idea is the system of its
own peculiar elements or stages and appears in each
of them" (s. 23). Great stress Hegel places upon
system; "a philosophizing without system has no
scientific value," being merely some " subjective way

774 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of thinking," with an accidental content. " A con
tent or subject-matter has justification only as an
element or stage of the Whole," and this is what sys
tematizes it, making it an organic member of the
totality. Nothing is so needful to our time as a little
study of Hegel's views on system, for the power of
organizing thought seems quite unknown to or disbe
lieved by even the philosophers of to-day.

In these utterances we see the struggle of Hegel to
pass out of the evolutionary into the cyclical element.
He has broken through (to use an expression of his)
the principle of Evolution as such ; that is, he has
found it limited, -a part or stage which will not stand
alone but must be supplemented. Having seen many
forms of thought, stages, categories rising in a succes
sive Evolution and passing away through their own
inner Dialectic, he has now come to see that Evolu
tion itself is dialectical. What is to be done? The
evolutionary Hegel must himself make a transition or
be swallowed up in the process of his own Dialectic.
It has become plain that Evolution to be true to itself,
must evolve out of itself, and somehow get back to its
starting-point; it begins, but what makes it begin? It
must be the Whole which returns upon itself and starts
through itself, evolving itself forever without begin
ning or end. But this is no longer strict Evolution,
the external unfolding of one form out of another.
Thus the evolutionary Hegel evolves into the encyclo
pedic Hegel, and makes his science, Philosophy, abso
lutely cyclical, self-returning, the totality which has
within itself the process from the start.

It is true that Hegel has long been aware of the
inner necessity of the encyclopedic procedure. But

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 7/5

he had to work out the Evolution of hte age in the
Phenomenology and the Logic, though attend of each,
he declares that there must be a return to the begin
ning. But that is not all. Even the grand outcome,
the Absolute, self -knowing and creative, is finite, is
not absolute till it has separated within itself and
become its own other in Nature, and then has returned
into itself through Spirit. Thus it takes up and
appropriates the philosophic Norm, becoming encyclo
pedic, and truly universal. Otherwise the Absolute
itself is dialectical and goes to pieces through its own
inner negation and finiturle. In the Encyclopedia,
therefore, Hegel reaches Philosophy, not simply the
Absolute, and thereby escapes, for a while at least,
from the maw of his own Dialectic, that awful monster
into whose jaws he has flung all former Philosophers,
all the shapes of the past, in fact the whole finite
world. Butthe question will arise again: Has Hegel
himself escaped this second time forever? We shall
have to wait and see.

III. What will be the special relation of this ency
clopedic elaboration with its overarching Norm to the
three evolutionary works already set forth? The
Phenomenology which first came forth a unity from the
mind of the author and was regarded as a kind of in
troduction to his Philosophy, " a voyage of discov
ery," will be taken to pieces in the Encyclopedia,
and its parts will be given a new arrangement. We
have already mentioned some of the more important
changes and re-adjustments of the Phenomenology
when the latter is fitted into the work before us.

When we come to the Logic (lesser) we find that
internally it is nearly the same as before , but that it

776 MODEBN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

has been given a different position. In the evolu
tionary Hegel its place is last, being the last develop
ment ; but in the encyclopedic Hegel its place is first,
being the genetic souroe of the other sciences. In the
one case it is the end of an ascending movement, in
the other it is the beginning of a cyclical movement ;
or to change the metaphor a little, the right line is
made to curve back into the round, and to return into
itself through the Logic as starting-point and gener
ative principle of the Whole. This makes it the first
stage of the Norm, whose outline and materials it
receives from the past, but it puts into them a new
genesis, the old body it endows with a new life. It is
chiefly this present position and conception of the
Logic, which makes the encyclopedic movement par
amount henceforth in Hegel's Philosophy, which
movement had been hitherto subordinate to the evo
lutionary principle, though alive and at work in the
soul of the philosopher underneath all his Evolution.
This brings us to the remaining book of Hegel's
evolutionary period, the History of Philosophy. In
the before-mentioned introduction to the Encyclopedia
Hegel dwells a good deal upon this subject. He
traces the origin of philosophizing, of man's need of
Philosophy, the need of thought to think itself which
drives it " to an Evolution out of itself." And this
will show itself primarily in the History of Philosophy
which " gives to the evolutionary stages of the Idea
the form of external succession in time and of an acci
dental difference of principles." But underlying and
unfolding through these different Philosophies is
"one Philosophy of which the others are only
branches." The last Philosophy in the evolutionary

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 777

series " is the result of all preceding ones and con
tains them all, hence is the most explicit, richest, most
concrete." Of course this last one is Hegel'e, at
least for Hegel himself.

But what is the relation of this History of Philos
ophy with its Evolution in time to the Encyclopedia
or to Philosophy as a Whole? The latter has "the
same Evolution of Thought," but it is " freed of the
historic externality," and is held " purely in the ele
ment of Thought " which, grasping itself and return
ing into itself, is concrete, is " the Absolute as
evolving itself within itself;" thus it is the true
Totality which is self-separative and self-returning,
all inside itself. Such is the process of the Absolute
which Hegel still keeps metaphysical, and does not
identify with the Ego, with the process of his own
very Self which is now creating and projecting this
process of the Absolute, whereof he is indeed an
essential part, reproducing and making it live just
here and now. That is, the mentioned process is not
conceived by the philosopher as psychological,
though it is his own Ego's as well as that of the
Absolute.

It is manifest that the encyclopedic Hegel absorbs
the Phenomenology and the Logic into his new Norm,
transforming their evolutionary principle to the degree
of subordinating it to the cyclical. But the History
of Philosophy remains evolutionary and in time,
according to Hegel outside of yet preparatory to
the absolute process of the Idea, of the grand Total
ity. But if anything be left outside, have we the
Totality, the All? More particularly if the Evolu
tion of Philosophy lies before and outside of Philoso-

778 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

phy itself as absolute, is the latter absolute? ,Has
our philosopher after bis tremendous labor really
gotten his Dialectic inside his Absolute! Somehow
we fancy we see the jaws of the monster, lying behind
there in the dark, make a portentous opening of them
selves as if getting ready to swallow Hegel and his
whole Universe. For the Universe itself became dia
lectical if it be limited ; or (to resume the metaphor)
unless it swallows all, it is bound to be swallowed
itself by that insatiable argos-eyed Dialectic spying
out every little corner of finitude in the Universe —
of which Dialectic Hegel himself, if not the father
exactly, is at least the great modern reviver and ex
positor.

IV. The movement from the evolutionary to the
encyclopedic principle lay in the time, and herein
again Hegel reflects the innermost process of his age.
The intimate relation between the career of Napoleon
and the Philosophy of Hegel has already been con
sidered. In 1817 when the Encyclopedia appeared,
Napoleon the Absolute was no longer absolute, but
was limited to a little solitary island in a far-off sea.
Europe had rallied and had dethroned the new emperor.
This is what Hegel had most recently experienced.
He had seen the real Absolute, " the World-Spirit
on horseback " made very finite, reduced at most to a
mere stage of the new process which had in it the
Return and Restoration as a leading constituent. For
Europe had restored the old order, had returned upon
itself and thus had introduced a new stage, which
goes back and completes the cycle of the period.

Now Hegel, the philosopher of the Reality, responds
in his deepest Spirit to this significant turn of events.

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 779

One of his chief sayings is, the Real is the Rational.
It is the function of the philosopher simply to cate
gorize the Reality, to precipitate it into the transpar
ent forms of thought. He is to mirror its pivotal
transitions in the terms of universal Reason. It is
hardly too much to say that with the overthrow of
Napoleon, Hegel's philosophical Absolute was over
thrown in his own conviction. The historic reality,
which never tells a lie, had declared that the evolved
Absolute was finite and hence dialectical. Hegel heard
the voice and understood its message ; probably of all
men of that time, he understood it best. At once he
gave his response, and reconstructed his evolutionary
Absolute, making it cyclical or encyclopedic, and call
ing the whole now Philosophy.

Europe itself, therefore, enters upon a kino, of en
cyclopedic movement which thrills the philosophic
mind of Hegel to its new utterance. But another
change is brewing. Berlin was the center of the
resurrected Teutonic folk-soul which mainly put
down Napoleon and subordinated the Absolute. Hegel
again heard the voice of the time, felt the impulse to
respond and soon did respond. At Berlin a great
fresh concentration of the German spirit was taking
place in Art, Science, Literature and Philosophy. We
recollect how in the beginning of the Century there
was a similar concentration at Jena, which, however,
lasted but a short time, the geniuses scattering thence
to all parts of Germany. Hegel also had followed the
call of the time and had gone to Jena, but had been
swept out of it bodily by the personal appearance
of " the World-Spirit on horseback." We have al
ready followed his course southward till he landed at

780 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Niirnberg where he stayed some eight years under the
domination of the Absolute both externally and in
ternally, and there wrote his larger Logic. But
the great change has come at last, the new concentra
tion is taking place, and the encyclopedic Hegel, no
longer revolutionary or dominantly evolutionary, is
drawn to the Prussian capital where he remains till
the end.

V. The same architectonic power which we saw in
the construction of the Logic, we witness again in the
Encyclopedia, which shows even vaster outlines. For
here the total edifice of science is built according to
one plan which penetrates to the smallest nook, co
ordinating and subordinating every division, large and
little. Even the prospect of such a structure is soul-
stretching, but to enter into and to master its details is
the greatest possible discipline in organizing thought,
and to organize thought from a central principle may
be well deemed the highest bloom of human intellect.
Here then we have the largest subject which the mind
of man can compass, nothing less than the Universe
itself, completely ordered and made transparent
through the philosopher's thinking. No other philos
opher, not even Aristotle, the greatest constructive
thinker of antiquity, has left any such Temple of
Thought.

Its procedure is again triadal through and through.
That God and all that God has created must be
triune, is not only believed but realized by Hegel.
Still just this triadal procedure is for the Anglo-Saxon
mind the greatest stumbling block placed at the very
entrance of the Temple. To be sure we believe in a
triune God, creator of Heaven and Earth, and of Man

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 781

in His image, but that all creation must in conse
quence be triune and thus reflect and reveal its
Maker, is simply revolting. The Trinity we are sup
posed to worship as the creative source and principle
of all things ; but we put it off into a corner all by
itself, somewhere in a church, and take it down for
an hour or so once a week on Sunday, looking at it
with pious wonderment and then putting it back into
its retired nook again for another week, far from the
noise and soilure of the wicked world. But for Hegel
the Trinity with its process is an eternal, ever-present
process, at work in everything, particularly in Mind,
Spirit, the Absolute. Hence it comes that in the
widest sweeps as well as in the minutest turns of his
exposition we find the triadal form, as if he would
compel us to see the creative triune All in the Small
and Smallest. We hold it, therefore, to be one of the
great merits of Hegel that he has broken through the
sacerdotal Trinity and made it universal, secular as
well as religious, an ever-present reality.

If the triadal procedure is just as emphatic as ever,
there is, on the other hand, it seems to us, a consider
able diminution of dialectical energy in the Encyclo
pedia as compared with either the Phenomenology or
the Logic. This may be in consequence of the nec
essary condensation of the book and of its pedagogi
cal purpose, since it was written as a manual for
students who attended his lectures. The lecturer
could expand and prove what is here only stated in the
form of naked propositions. Such a plan we may still
trace in the added observations, which are reflections
upon the main text. Still the book on this side shows
Hegel becoming more dogmatic and assertory ; he is

782 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

approaching bis absolute period, when he dictates from
above instead of unfolding from below.

In fact the Dialectic is in a manner relegated to a
back seat in the Encyclopedia, being the second or
negative stage, so that the third, or speculative, is dis
tinctly placed above it, being the positively rational,
while the Dialectic is the negatively rational (see
VI. 157). Hegel seems to regard his Encyclopedia as
speculative or speculative Philosophy, which though
properly a result of the Dialectic, no longer needs it,
having become independent as it were, by kicking
down the ladder of its ascent. This partial absence,
or weakness of the Dialectic, however, is a weakness
in the book itself as a product of Hegel, whose main
philosophic function is to show every part of the
Universe to be dialectical when taken as a part, and
thus to make every fragment of the Whole declare
itself a fragment. Change, transition may be called
the primal manifestation of the Dialectic in the world ;
beginning and ceasing, birth and decay, generation
and corruption, are all categories of this visible Dia
lectic seen everywhere in finite existence. Hegel was
not the first to observe it or to name it, but was the
first to realize its full meaning and to order it in a
system of thought.

And yet even Hegel seems to turn his back upon the
Dialectic, partially at least, in a pivotal moment. We
have to query in ourselves, What is the reason?
After all, he does not see it as psychological, as the
very life and essence of the Ego with which he is
working, but as metaphysical, as something abstract
which is turning around out yonder in the world with
a curious sort of movement quite separated from its

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 783

source in the Ego. So he appears to get tired of his
plaything and drops it, picking it up again occasionally.
For the same reason Hegel has never given a sufficient
ground for his triadal procedure, for the final triplicity
of the All. To be sure he sees it, assumes it, and
never abandons it, when he once gets it, not even in
the Encyclopedia. Again we must go back to the Ego
for the real genesis of the triadal movement, whose
source lies far deeper and truer in Psychology than in
Philosophy. In the former we reach down to the psy
chical Process of the Universe (the Pampsychosis) as
all-creative, wherein lies not only explanation, but
final verification.

To our mind, therefore, the Encyclopedia in spite of
its vast sweep and its marvelous constructive power,
shows a falling off in the pure innermost energy of the
Hegelian spirit. We shall, accordingly, give no such
full account of Hegel's Encyclopedia as we have given
in three preceding works, whioh are by all means his
supremely original productions. The divisions of the
Encyclopedia are briefly as follows: —

(I.) Logic or Pure Philosophy — the science of the
Idea in and for itself.

(II.) The Philosophy of Nature — the science of
the Idea in its other-being (Andersseyn).

(III.) The Philosophy of Spirit — the science of
the Idea in its return from other-being into itself.

The divisions of Philosophy as Hegel has often told
us, can only be understood at the conclusion, for it is
the Idea of the Whole which must be seen dividing
itself within. Any other method of division is exter
nal. Accordingly the Idea shows the following pro
cess ; it is first "self-identical thinking, which then

784 MODERN E UROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

separates itself and places itself over against itself,"
in order to be t4 in this other of self one with itself,"
that is, in order to return out of separation into unity.
Hence there are three divisions of the Encyclopedia,
which (as before said) now embraces all Philosophy.

VI. Of the three foregoing divisions, the Logic and
the Philosophy of Nature we shall here pass over ; the
former has already been considered and the latter will
be noticed later. The third stage, usually called
Spirit or Mind (Geist} may be briefly looked at. It
also has its three stages divided according to the Con
ception into subjcct:ve, objective, and absolute Spirit,
all of which are forms of the self-returning movement
which is its essential character, be it finite or infinite.
Properly this third stage is the return of the finite Mind
(Man) to its creative source in the infinite (God).
According to Hegel, Mind as finite returns out of
opposition in Nature to itself as absolute. Finite
Mind is really the contradiction of finitude, which has
to get out of itself (through its own inner Dialectic) and
be infinite. "The highest definition of the Absolute
is that it is the revealed, self conscious, infinitely
creative Mind " (VII. 2. s. 32). This is the foregoing
Absolute Spirit (or Mind), the end and fulfillment of
the other two stages, which are finite.

These three stages Hegel puts together in thought
as follows: (I.) Subjective Mind; the self-return of
Mind is immediate, within itself, " in the form of self-
relation." Or, the total process of the Idea is here
ideal and implicit, not yet real. Three subdivisions:
Anthropology, Phenomenology, and Psychology. The
latter has now crept into the Hegelian system aad
evidently threatens to take possession ; Hegel here calls

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 785

it ominously the Science of the Spirit (6reis£), the
same term which he has hitherto applie 1 to this entire
sphere. In Psychology we now observe Intellect
and Will specially, also the subordinate divisions
of Intellect — Sense-perception, Representation and
Thought — all of which we shall find to be the secret
forces hereafter organizing his work. (II.) Objective
Mind: the self-return of Mind is now through a
mediated, Mind-produced world — the world of
Right, Law, and Institutions — which determine the
Ego to determine it. Three subdivisions: Formal
Right or Legality, Morality, and Institutionality
(Sittlichkeit). It is to be noticed that Hegel
derives this sphere of objective spirit directly
from the Will: " It is the existence (Daseyn} of the
Will." Thus he drops the logical and adopts the
psychological deduction, just after the preceding
Psychology, which, however, is here not even a co
ordinate stage. All this is unconsciously done, but is
very significant, indicating that Hegel is giving up
secretly his metaphysical standpoint. When we come
to treat of the Philosophy of Right, something more
will be said upon this theme. (III.) Absolute Mind:
the self-return of Mind is the objective world which
is at the same time subject; is the unity of the two,
both as self-returned and as self-returning; is the
Absolute as self-knowing Self, to which the finite Ego
is to return and with which it is to unify itself in
thought. This is the same conclusion to which Hegel
comes at the end of his three evolutionary books. As
he has organized this sphere somewhat more fully than
before, we may follow out his main lines.

The point to be emphasized is the return of the finite
50

786 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Mind (Man) to the Absolute Mind (God), which re
turn takes three forms or stages : that of Sense-per
ception which gives Art, that of Representation which
gives Religion, that of Thought which gives Philos
ophy. That is: the Absolute as Object perceived
through the senses, is artistic ; the Absolute as Object
internally seen through image and symbol, is religious ;
the Absolute as Object penetrated by self-conscious
thought is philosophical. Such are Hegel's three
famous divisions of absolute Spirit — Art, Religion,
and Philosophy — putting an order into this lofty
theme, which not only captivates the Reason, but also
dazzles or even dizzies the Imagination.

Now the most striking fact in this division is that its
principle is not logical but psychological, being taken
from the three well-known stages of the Intellect — •
Sense-perception, Representation, and Thought — and
not from the stages of the Conception — Univer
sality, Particularity and Individuality. Thus Hegel
in the organization of the supreme movement of his
whole Philosophy — just this Absolute Spirit — throws
overboard his logical division, which he has so often
declared to be fundamental, and, without any notice
or any justification of his procedure, seizes upon the
psychological division of the Intellect for the principle
of order. Now we are far from saying that this classi
fication of Absolute Spirit is wrong; on the contrary
we believe it to be in the main correct. The point,
however, is that Hegel here abandons his Logic as
fundamental and goes over to Psychology, and that
too in the very highest and last cycle of Sciences in
his entire Encyclopedia.

Again the question comes up: What does it mean?

THE ENCYCLOPEDIC HEGEL. 787

Recollect this is the unconscious Hegel ; certainly he
is not fully aware of what he is doing. But just this
unconscious element is, to our mind, the deeper com
ing principle rising underneath and breaking through
his conscious logical or metaphysical scheme. This
psychological division (that of the Ego) determines
his Absolute Spirit, is really its own self-division, and
hence should determine every other division, logical
included. But such a thought did not rise into the
consciousness of Hegel ; if it had so risen and borne
fruit, he would have been compelled to reconstruct his
Logic by putting under it its psychologic foundation
as he has done here in Absolute Spirit, partially at
least.

Moreover we may consider this the last philosophic
product of the theoretic Hegel, written at Heidelberg
not long before his departure. His first and second
Periods, devoted to the inner evolution of his Philoso
phy, close with the view of Absolute Spirit at the end
of the Encyclopedia. But just at this point the theo
retic Hegel is suddenly whisked out of his inner world
and becomes the practical Hegel, who will unfold and
apply to reality chiefly these three divisions of abso
lute Spirit, namely Art, Religion and Philosophy.

We saw the evolutionary Hegel evolve the Absolute
as the great finality, which, however, showed itself at
the very last to be not absolute, but finite and dialec
tical. To escape from such a dualism, the encyclo
pedic Hegel arose, seizing the philosophic Norm and
its supreme self- returning cycle of the All whose funda
mental genetic principle was the Logic. But in the
last stage of the total movement of this Norm, that of
the Absolute Spirit, the Logic shows itself to be not

788

MODERN EUROPEAN' PHILOSOPHY.

fundamental, and is supplanted by a psychologic
principle. Thus the encyclopedic Hegel has evolved
a new dualism, deeper than even the former one, in
deed the deepest of all, that between Philosophy itself
and Psychology, the conscious and the unconscious,
the outgoing and the incoming world-disciplines.
To such a point of inner separation and transition
the last European philosopher has brought his Sci
ence, having evolved it though its own principle of
Evolution to its conclusion.

This we may call a new Parting of the Ways, and
again we may ask, Which road will our philosopher
now take? Will he follow the psychologic beckoning
toward the future? Impossible ; he is largely uncon
scious of its significance, even if he sees it ; he cannot
make the skip out of the first of the Nineteenth to the
first of the Twentieth Century. Moreover he cannot
reconstruct his entire colossal edifice on which he has
wrought all his life, till nearly his fiftieth year, putting
underneath him a new substructure, and transform
ing the whole superstructure. Just in this Absolute
Spirit he has driven Philosophy to its stepping-off
place, when he turns back, dropping all further theo
retic development of his principle, and applies what he
has won to special sciences and to practical life at
Berlin. Thither we shall follow him and scan what we
may call his Prussian productions.

THE PHILOSOPIIAECII HEGEL. 789

III. THE PHILOSOPHARCH HEGEL.

As Hegel regarded each stage of his Logic to
be a definition of the Absolute, so we may re
gard each stage of Hegel's own development as
a definition of Hegel's Absolute. Thus we have
already passed through two stages, or two Hegels,
the evolutionary and the encyclopedic. Now we
have reached the third, the realized Hegel, in his
sphere an actual ruler of the real world, whom
we shall designate the Philosopharch, who is not
simply a new Hegel, but a new character in the
World's History.

For now a philosopher becomes in and through
his science an official of the State, a chief official;
he is not indeed the practical Prime Minister, yet
a kind of theoretical one, a veritable part of the
governmental process, the thought of which he
is to declare and formulate, as it manifests itself
in action. The State must now think, be con
scious of its own purpose and end ; the man who
is to make it think, furnishing his Thought to its
Will, is the new official, not indeed a member of
the cabinet, but the thinker of the Institution,
who in the progress of the ages has appeared, no
lono-er outside but inside, or at least behind the

O

practical administration of affairs. Listen to his
view: "The State is the Spirit which stands

790 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

forth in the world and realizes itself in the same
consciously," of course through the man who is
conscious of what it is and who is an official
attending to such duty, chiefly on account of his
native ability in that direction. Yet he is cer
tainly regarded with approval by the government.
Such a peculiar position Hegel s@on obtained
after his removal from Heidelberg to Berlin in
1818. He succeeded substantially in enthroning
Philosophy as the ruler of the State ; he be
came the Philosopharch,a being unknown before
or since ; and Prussia for a time became a Phi-
losopharchy, a style of government previously
unheard of, and probably never to be seen again.

I. It is true that philosophers had long dreamed of
some such position as due to themselves and their
thought. Plato in antiquity had constructed his ideal
Republic with a philosopher at the head ; but no such
principle has ever been realized. Aristotle also would
have the ruler a philosopher. Plotinus was encour
aged by a Roman emperor for a while to found a
Platonopolis, a city of philosophers, but the scheme
came to naught. Sir Thomas More was a practi
cal statesman, but he probably never thought of realiz
ing his Utopia. Hegel indeed is not the Monarch, not
the Executive, but we may call him the Philosopharch
of Prussia at this time.

II. Why this unique coming-together, this mutual
attraction of what had before been opposites? The
answer must be: both sides were ready, each indeed
was seeking the other; Prussia was calling for the

THE PHILOSOPI1AECII HEGEL. 791

absolute philosopher, and the philosopher was calling
for the absolute State.

Hitherto Hegel had been theoretical; at most his
practical life was that of an instructor who taught his
own theory. He had written the most abstruse, the
most difficult, the most theoretical books in all Chris
tendom ; yet he had a practical side, and he longed
to apply his Philosophy to real life. If he had remained
at Heidelberg, he would probably have continued to
write out his Encyclopedia, and have made it the cycle
of all the sciences, in accordance with the original
plan, which was to rival the great French work of the
same name.

But he receives the invitation to Berlin University,
and at once a vast new prospect opens. He had
evolved out of his first Absolute into his cyclical stage,
which was still theoretical, at Heidelberg. But can
it now be made real, applied not only to the special
sciences but to practical life? We see from Hegel's
letters that he had a longing to be a man of affairs ;
in fact, he deemed Philosophy to be the true solvent
of all reality.

Prussia had shown herself to be the intellectual
leader of Germany in the War of Liberation. She had
been the chief power in putting down Napoleon, the
foreign French Absolute, and she was on the way to
take his place as the native German Absolute. At
the battle of Jena Hegel had seen Prussia utterly de
feated and humiliated, and, as he then thought, deserv
edly. But she had risen from the dust, had trans
formed herself through efforts of her statesmen, Stein
and Scharnhorst, and had driven out her oppressor.
At such a view Hegel changed his former opinion, had

792 MODE 'ItN E UE OPE AN PHIL O SOPHY.

to change it, and could not help wishing himself at
the center of such a remarkable transformation, which
had now its inner response in his own soul. He
would no longer stay in South Germany ; he must put
himself at the heart of the great movement in his
own native land. As he went at the beginning of the
Century to the University of Jena, then the center of
an epoch, so now he goes to Berlin answering the call
of the time.

Thus Hegel the philosopher of the Absolute hitherto
is next to become the absolute philosopher — a very
different thing. In his evolutionary period we saw
him evolving the Absolute, which stood outside of
his nation and himself, yet dominated both. But the
time has come when the Absolute has gone inside his
nation and himself. Prussia will incorporate it in
the State. But Hegel personally will manifest the
Absolute incarnate, and will become the Napoleon of
Philosophy, dominating and tyrannical.

III. Another pivotal fact in the life of Hegel at
Berlin is that he becomes the founder of a school of
Philosophy, which he makes the center of the Univer
sity, and of the culture of Berlin, where it was for a
time the fashion to hear Hegel. He gathered about
himself a band of zealous disciples, some of whom
were men of great ability, and carried his doctrines
into the special departments of science. Others were
shallow repeaters of his categories, and some were
downright charlatans. Thus Hegel becomes the abso
lute ruler of a School, the Scholarch asserting his au
thority over his followers, and requiring their obedience
to his doctrine as if he were the philosophic pope.

Before he went to Berlin Hegel had laid the solid

THE PHILOSO PI1A ECU HEGEL. 793

foundatioDS for a School. Particularly the Encyclope
dia gave an outline which was to be fi led up by many
special workers. Three different editions (two at Ber
lin) appeared showing how much it was used as a text
book. Then the Logic would furnish a rich mine for
the deeper delvers, who through it would become truly
initiates into the most esoteric Hegelian thought. Nor
must we leave out the Phenomenology, the original
"voyage of discovery," for the philosopher himself
and for many of his pupils. These three books which
are still the basic studies for Hegel's Philosophy, he
carried with him already printed to Berlin. He was
48 years old, the theoretical part of his work was
done, now he must plant and propagate, in fine must
realize his ideas. Such was the substructure which
he had laid chiefly in the quiet years at Niirnberg, and
without which he could never have reared the colossal
superstructure at Berlin.

He devotes himself specially to lecturing and really
writes but one book during the Berlin period and that
not a very large one (Philosophic des Rechts). But
he gives courses on a number of branches, which his
pupils will after his death edit and publish as Philos
ophy of History, and History of Philosophy, the
Aesthetics and Religion. All these books are differ
ent in style and in manner of exposition from his
earlier ones. On the whole they are much easier
for the average reader, less rigid in development,
less technical, though his peculiar philosophical
nomenclature is not wanting in them. It is clear that
Hegel is seeking to popularize his thought, to
bring it home to a general audience, to realize it in
many cultured human souls who have little or no spe-

794 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

cial philosophic training. Very different arc his first
three written books already mentioned. In these his
mind is upon the thing, not upon his hearer or reader ;
but in the later books, made up from his lectures, his
standpoint is in his audience largely, and his exposi
tion has a more popular tinge. From the central
Encyclopedia, or the circular Totality moving on its
own axis, special lines are turned off and wrought out
into detail. If Hegel's first or evolutionary move
ment was centripetal, and his second or encyclopedic
was cyclical, his third or philosopharchic is centrifu
gal, sending off particular threads which are then
elaborated in themselves.

IV. As Scholarch, or ruler of the school, he began
to assign departments to pupils, who were to carry
them out to completeness. Here an inner conflict
begins, for some of these pupils did not follow him
closely enough, but insisted upon a certain individ
uality and independence. This H(gel on the whole
could not tolerate; he asserted himself as the incar
nate Absolute of his School. Moreover the present
was the period of the Absolute realized, both in the
State and in the philosopher personally. We have to
confess that Hegel was inclined during this time
more and more to relegate the individual to a back
seat if not to nullify him.

But when it came to philosophers of a different
School, he played the part of Philosopharch with a
vengeance. Dr. Beneke, who had his own system of
thought, Hegel tried officially to bar out of the Uni
versity completely, as being heterodox. In this and
in similar cases Hegel really was devoured by his own
Dialectic, for a University should certainly be uni-

THE PHILOSOPHARCH HEGEL. 795

versal, at least in the universal science Philosophy.
Thus there was getting to be the one true Philosophy at
Berlin, determined by authority, as in former ages the
one true Religion was determined by authority. Such
a claim to infallibility on the part of our philosophic
pope could only beget violent opposition whose hate
continued long after Hegel's death. The result was
that he was often blamed for matters in which he had
no hand. Krause and Krause's friends blamed him
for lack of promotion, Herbart blamed him, and
Schopenhauer cursed him and his doctrine in language
which still smells sulphurous. In fact it has to be
acknowledged that there is a transmitted dislike of
Hegel personally in Germany to-day. Educated
Germans we find often who do not know or care
about his Philosophy or any Philosophy, but who make
wry faces at the mention of his name. They show a
feeling against him which they do not show against
Fichte or Scheming or Schleiermacher or against any
other philosopher. A similar animosity often is man
ifested in otherwise calm philosophic books, as we
may see in Haym's work on Hegel. We have often
asked ourselves, why so bitterly personal in matters
of impersonal, dispassionate Philosophy? Why these
charges of fraud (Betrug), of charlatanry, of double-
dealing in the ethereal realm of Pare Thought?
They seem to go back to this period of the absolute
Philosopharch when he is declared to have betrayed
liberty and the individual, to have subjected Philoso
phy to a reactionary government, and to have played
the tyrant himself in the very citadel of Free
Thought. The result is the study of Hegel has been
almost driven out of German Universities and has

796 MO DEUX E UR OPE A N PHIL 0 SOPHY.

fled to Anglo-Saxon countries for appreciation and
new life. And here it may be noted that the institu
tional idea of Hegel (barring his practice) is more
congenial to the Anglo-Saxon than to the German
conception of institutions. But the name of Hegel
is not honored in Germany like that of Kant and
Fichte ; the autocratic Philosopharch is remembered
more than the truth-seeking philosopher.

V. On the other hand Hegel knew how to inspire
his pupils with a deep enthusiasm, often with a kind of
adoration. Few philosophers before him have been
tire recipient of so much flattery. Poetry sang his
praises and put his thoughts into rhyme. The culmi
nation was reached in this line when Werder cele
brated the philosopher's birthday in words which de
clared the categories of Hegel's Logic to be *' the
new Gods." Olympus was restored, the Hegelian
Pan-categoreon was really the modern Pantheon out
of which the coming epic poet might construct the
new Iliad. Thus Homer was now to appear after the
philosopher, not before him, as was the case in old
Greek times when Aristotle philosophized Homeric
poetry. Of course such extravagances could not fail
of calling up the counterblast. A corned}' circulated
through Berlin bearing the title : The Winds, or the
wholly absolute construction of the newer World's
History blown through Oberon's horn by Absolutus
von Hegelingen. So the town divided into the Hegel
ians and Anti-Hegelians, which division had to be
come political, as the philosopher was in high favor
with the government, and those who opposed it would
not see much good in the Hegelian Philosophy.

Hegel, however, succeeded in building up a school

THE PHILOSOPHAECH HEGEL. 797

of able and powerful defenders. His apostles were not
poor fishermen like those of the Nazarene, nor were
they poor women like those of Froebel. Many of them
were men in power, officials of the State. Hegel's
gospel was not persecuted, but was the very road to
favor and political preferment. Hence there was in
his following a noisy set of self-seekers and hypocrites,
who were ready to fall away at the least frown from
above. Never purified in the fire of persecution, the
School had no holding power and went to pieces soon
after the master's departure. This does not mean
that Hegel's thought was lost even if it passed into an
eclipse in its native land.

VI. It was this School of Hegel at Berlin, which
earned the gratitude of all thinkers by publishing a
complete edition of Hegel's Works, to which we have
often made reference in the preceding account. Special
credit is due to those who burdened themselves with
the task of putting together his later books from a
great variety of scattered notes. Of this final part of
Hegel's writings it remains to give some account.

A THE PHILOSOPHY OF RIGHT. — Hegel's work whose
title (Philosophie des Bechts) we thus translate, was
the only book which he wrote out and printed after he
came to Berlin. He was overwhelmed with practical
affairs ; the time of quiet self-communing which is
necessary to elaborate thoroughly organized books
(and such were hitherto Hegel's) was past forever.
Undoubtedly he still continued to write, but it was in
the form of lectures, articles, and additions to what
he had already conceived and in part wrought out.
Then he was largely employed with administration,
and, as we see by this book, with politics. We might

798 MODE EN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

almost call in his own nomenclature his previous
philosophic life Conception (Begriff), but now this is
to be endowed with reality and so become Idea
(Hegel's Idee).

The present book, as we have it, is not as Hegel
published it in the first edition. It is in the transi
tional state from his own writings to those which the
society of his followers published after his death.
This fact we have from the editor, Gans, who states
in his preface that he added to Hegel's text many
notes taken from the latter's lectures on the present
subject. Thus we have in the book two strands both
coming from Hegel, one original and the other edi
torial. Hence it may be deemed a kind of transition
and introduction to the Berlin series of Hegel's works
(represented mainly by vols. V1II-XV of the col
lected edition).

In 1818 when Hegel arrived at Berlin, a time of re
action against all popular measuies had set in. When
the Prussian people arose in 1814-5, responding to
the summons of their king, and drove out Napoleon,
they had been led to believe that they would have a
Constitution which granted them representation in the
government. This expectation the Prussian authori
ties, from one cause and another, refused to fulfill,
and started a systematic persecution of those who agi
tated for such a reform. The Prussian people also
began to have an aspiration to be sharers in the gov
ernment of their country ; they began to feel that they
should have a hand in making the laws which they had
to obey and to defend with their lives. The new im
pulse of the age was fermenting in Prussia.

Into this political discussion Hegel is plunged on his

THE PHILOSOPHARCH HEGEL. 799

arrival at Berlin and he has to take sides. In the book
now under consideration he must treat of the State,
its powers and limitations ; here too he has to take
sides. Which side will he take? Will he support the
people in their aspiration for a small part in govern
ing themselves, or will he make government absolute?
In order to answer these questions, or rather this one
fundamental question properly, we must look into
the treatise before us.

As a preparation he gives some warm prefatory re
marks "on the position of Philosophy toward the
Reality." He will have nothing to do with anything
like a construction of an ideal State; for " it is the
function of Philosophy to comprehend what is " or the
Reality, "inasmuch as this is Reason." Hereupon
he lays down his famous double maxim : —

" Whatever is rational, is real "
" Whatever is real, is rational."

The inference must be that the chief object of the
present treatise is to comprehend the rationality of the
existent State, that is, of Prussia. The fact that it
exists makes it rational, and the Philosophy of the
State can have no other task than to set forth the in
dwelling Reason now manifested in the Prussian Gov
ernment. There is to be apparently no criticism, no
suggestion of improvement, and political evolution
seems to have quite reached its limit. The foregoing
principle in its extreme form has been rarely defended
even by the Hegelians; for instance, Rosenkranz, the
most devoted among the abler followers of Hegel, crit
icises it sharply. Hegel himself does not comply with

800 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

it always ; still it shows his present trend even if this
be one-sided. At Berlin he has at last the opportu
nity to make his Philosophy a Reality, indeed to make
himself also real as absolute, as Philosopharch, pass
ing actually and literally from an abstract subjective
Conception hitherto into the real objective stage of the
Idea (which Idea, we must never forget, is with Hegel
the Conception clothed in Reality).

Our philosopher goes on to declare that "every
individual is the Son of his time," and in like man
ner every Philosophy can only put in thought its own
period. It is not to build the State over as this ought
to be, no ideal construction of a commonwealth is to
be tolerated ; you must take what is and understand
that. Very plainly do these declarations show that
Hegel has now found his Absolute as a real existent
object before him, no longer spun out of his brain, as
it is at the end of the Logic or the Encyclopedia.
Here it is, the divine epiphany at least, the State, and
specially this Prussian State, autocratic, absolute, in
fact just the Absolute embodied (see this whole pre
face, Philosophe des Rechts, Vorrede).

These expressions are formulated and made still
more precise when the philosopher comes to that of
the State in particular. Says he: the State is "the
substantial Will which thinks and knows itself, and
executes what it knows," namely itself, this Will.
We recall that in the Phonomenology and Logic the
Absolute was the self-knowing Spirit; this is now
quite identified by Hegel with his State which has
Will (VIII. s. 305-6), and also "Self-consciousness
elevated to univerality." In fact, Philosophy " has
the same element of form as the State," the latter

THE PHILO SOPH ARCH HEGEL. 801

being " absolute, immovable self-end." Hegel,
therefore, has two Absolutes, or rather he has evolved
out of one (the ideal) into the other (the real) — or
out of the Niirnberg and Heidelberg Absolute into
this new Berlin one, or out of the Absolute of the
Intellect into that of the Will.

Unquestionably this last Evolution was not a sud
den jump but stood long before the door knocking
lightly or at times loudly for entrance into the Real
World. We may find hints of its presence through
his entire philosophic career. It lay in the man, in
the time, yea in the Absolute itself, that it be truly
absolute, a fact and not merely a thought of the Will
as well as of the Intellect. Then Prussia furnished the
golden opportunity into which Hegel, long waiting,
sprang at abound. The apparent suddenness is but
superficial ; internally Hegel had been traveling the
road to Berlin all his life, even if he did not know it,
and often supposed just the opposite.

Still further we may carry forward this thought of
the State. Hegel of course knew that there were
many States besides Prussia, that Europe was a
society of individual States with boundaries limiting
each other and interests perpetually clashing. Hence
he comes to the thought of the Spirit presiding over
all these manifold political units and determining their
destiny in the destiny of the Whole. Such a Spirit
he calls the World-Spirit. " In the Idea of the State
we are not to consider merely particular States, but
the Idea as such, this actual God, is to be regarded "
(VIII. s. 313). So the State in its Idea is God made
real on this earth, the true Theophany. In such a
view the Church must be a very subordinate institution.

51

802 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

Such is Hegel's complete spiritual absorption into and
coalescense with the Prussian State, which in its turn
was equally ready to be transformed into Hegel. Will
the crab assimilate the oyster or the oyster the crab?
If Hegel was Prussianized, Prussia was Hegelized. Of
this fact we may find testimony in a letter to Hegel
from the Prussian Minister, Von Altenstein, in refer
ence to this Philosophy of Right. " In the present
work as well as in your lectures you lay stress upon
grasping the present Reality, and upon comprehend
ing the rational principle in History. This is the
only correct attitude of Philosophy toward Reality.
Thus you best succeed in preserving your hearers
from the destructive conceit which rejects the existent
order without recognizing its meaning, and which
takes pleasure in empty ideals as regards the State."
(Cited in Rosenkranz, Leben, s. 337.) Such was the
ministerial seal of approval upon this book with its
view of the State.

Prussia, then, has become for Hegel " the self-
knowing Absolute " realized, actually present and at
work in the world. There is little or no organic
movement from below upward, but from above down
ward, from "the actual God" above downward to
the people. It is true that just now the Prussian
people are showing a strong aspiration in their hearts
to say a word in making the law which they have to
obey. But against any such notion " of the popu
lace " Prussia is atf present in strong reaction and
is sending to jail any "demagogue" who dares
speak of such a thing. The State is the Absolute
" which knows itself and wills what it knows ; " it is
the grand Totality within itself, which sends forth its

THE PHILOSOPHAECH HEGEL. 803

decree, and the people have nothing to do but to
follow.

And here by way of counterpart we may introduce
the Hegelian definition of the People, as "that por
tion of the State which does not know what it wills.1'
(The emphasis is Hegel's. See VIII. s. 386.) Such
is the assumption: only the State, or rather the
bureaucracy governing it, can " know what it wills ; "
the people have " no insight or recognition " of what
most deeply concerns them. They must accept the
Absolute without any creative participation of their
own ; they are not to ask how did it get there or who
put it there ; least of all they must not think of taking
a hand in establishing this supremacy over themselves.
Such is " the actualization of Freedom," with which
word trouble again enters. " In the case of Freedom
we are not to start from the individual," but from the
self-conscious Absolute already mentioned, " in which
the individuals are only moments" (VIII. s. 313).
Hegel often speaks of Freedom, believes in Freedom,
but it is the Hegelian Freedom, which we have already
characterized. The free individual recognizes by his
intelligence the absolute State and aquiescesin it as the
realized Reason of the world. Any resistance to it or
separation from it is the destruction of Freedom, whose
supreme act is to appreciate and to obey the behests
of " the present deity," the State, graciously coming
down from above.

And now for the other side. There is no doubt
that just the opposite line of thought can be found in
this book of Hegel. "The essence of the modern
State is that its universal principle be united with the
full freedom of the particular person," and its proper

804 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

administration " cannot progress without taking into
account the right of the individual both knowing and
willing" (VIII. s. 315). Many other similar pas
sages might he cited. In fact Hegel becomes elo
quent, when he starts to dilating upon the " modern
principle of subjectivity " which enters into the State
of to day as distfnct from that of antiquity. Emo
tional, almost sentimental extracts we might cull per
taining to this theme. Unquestionably he regarded
himself as a defender of true liberty, and as an vindi
cator of the individual. And he was of course from
point of his view.

In the detailed organization of his State Hegel pre
sents the outlines of a constitutional Monarchy, simi
lar to England which the Prussia of his time was not.
All this we must consider a step and a courageous
step, in advance. When it comes to the representa
tion of the people, he shows some hesitation. Still he
adopts it, even if in a subordinate way. That the
people should make the law which governed them was
on the whole antagonistic not only to Hegel's view of
the State but to his view of the Universe. The Abso
lute independent of the individual, the supreme
Reason in and for itself, the divine Substance from
which all particularity came forth, was fundamental
with him. Yet as already stated he had at times the
other side, that of the individual as source of right
and freedom.

It is a fair inference, therefore, that this work on
the Philosophy of Right is at bottom dualistic. When
Hegel made his Absolute real in the Prussian State
he dualized himself and his Philosophy. At Berlin
there are two strands, quite opposite running through

THE PIIILOSOPHASCn HEGEL. 805

him and his work. Indeed he could not help it, such
is the true outcome and culmination of his thought.
When editor Gans, the warm defender, declares the
work to be forged " out of the single metal of Free
dom," and points to many confirmatory passages, he
is right in his way. When biographer Haym, the
bitter antagonist, declares the work to be steeped in
hostility to the right of the individual and hence to
Freedom, he certainly finds many quotations support
ing his view. Now both these mm are right in assert
ing their side ; but each is wrong in maintaining that
his half is the whole HegeL The time has come when
both halves must be recognized, each in its complete
ness yet also in its separation. For this inner dualism
to which the Philosophy of Hegel has pushed forward
must be seen as the stage antecedent to its dissolution
first and then to its higher evolution. Just this in
herent scission and separation of the colossal philo
sophic organism is the premonition of and the call for
the coming new synthesis.

In fact we can see that neither of the foregoing
representative men (Gans and Haym) can solve the
other's problem. The one puts supreme stress upon
the objective, the law and institution ; the other upon
the subjective, the moral consciousness, the individ
ual self-determination. Such is the European dualism
in this sphere; the State with its officials, its police,
its law, is to secure the freedom of the people, who,
however, are not allowed to have any hiind in secur
ing their own freedom through their freedom. They
are to obey the authority placed over them not through
their own act, and thus safeguard their Will. On the
whole this is Hegel's conception of liberty, and is de-

806 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

rived from the reality before him, namely from Europe,
and specially from Prussia. In a manner the people
must be subservient in order to be free, must renounce
self-determination in order to get something of it at
last. The State shall not disturb my conscience, my
way of thinking, my subjective world, but I must keep
out of politics, and turn government over to the
divinely established authorities. The outcome is that
I must leave the State alone and the State must leave
ire alone. Thus it would seem that there is no State
for the moral man ; the moral and the institutional are
absolutely divorced and irreconcilable, and must re
main asunder as the ideal and the real.

It is a merit of Hegel that he seizes the worth of the
Institution, particularly of the State. But the moral
element is a vanishing one in his thought. The right
of the subject, of the individual, seems to grow less
and less during his Prussian career. It is on this
point that the European Liberal attacks him ; but the
fcame European Liberal is in general equally one
sided, as he has no adequate ground for institutions.

B. LECTURES AT BERLIN. — That Hegel was very
active as a lecturer during his Berlin Period has
already been noted. His themes were various, some
of them we have sufficiently considered. There
remain, however, three important books of his belong
ing to the present sphere, products of his lectures,
which must be briefly glanced at.

A favorite conception of Hegel's was that of the
World-Spirit, and it was certainly one of his most
grandiose and fruitful thoughts. It is the moving
principle in his Philosophy of History, which he
brought to its full realization after the preceding work

THE rillLOSOPIIAECn HEGEL. 807

(the Philosophy of Right). This is his third if not
fourth Absolute, if we count those of the previous
books. Already the State has been one of these
Absolutes, " the actual God." But the World-Spirit
employs the individual State for its end, which must,
therefore, be absolute, and above the State. Such is
now "the absolute Idea/' which unfolds itself histo
rically and thus is precipitated into time.

Here Hegsl becomes again evolutionary but in a
new way. °Not a line of Categories, but a line of
States is the present evolution of the Absolute. The
absoluteness of the State is secretly dropped, other
wise there would be a row of Absolutes, each devour
ing the other. For the World's History reveals the
inner Dialectic of the historic State in its rise and fall.
Each nation or folk is a stage in " the development of
the consciousness of freedom." Hegel also hints that
these stages correspond to the Categories of the Logic,
which thus receive a fresh confirmation. His new
interest is shown in a new statement about Philosophy
which now " has to do with the manifestation of the
Idea as it has appeared in the World's History." ' Art,
Relic-ion, Philosophy are simply to portray this pro
cess^ " all spiritual activity has as its end to make man
conscious of his unity " with the State and the World-
Spirit (Phil. Gesch. s. 61). This is a great and true
thought but it makes a new demand upon the Hegelian
system which it does not fulfill, namely for an Educa
tive Institution. Art, Religion, and Philosophy are
not, then, self -end as formerly declared, but are an
end for man's instruction, and for his elevation to
institutional life.

In a number of ways Hegel's Philosophy of History

808 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

demands a total remodeling of his system. It often
reaches underneath the whole superstructure and calls
for a new order. If we seek for the Absolute Reality
in the historic succession of Time, the encyclopedic
ring is broken and another stage is heralded. Haym
declares that Hegel's Philosophy of History " has no
future." This is again a one-sided statement, for the
opposite can also be shown. In other words this book
likewise runs into that inherent dualism which we
have so often noted before in Hegel and in all Philos
ophy. The self-returning principle in its supreme
form gets successive again and evolves not into but
out of the Absolute, or perchance out of one Abso
lute into another. The encyclopedic Hegel bursts
over his cycle and leaps into the stream of Time whose
events the Absolute as World-Spirit now posits. Thus
the cycle as metaphysical is broken to pieces and quite
abandoned by Hegel himself in this book, and its
fragments may be seen here and there floating at the
mercy of the aforesaid stream of Time. Surely the
cycle must be transformed if ever again it shall come
to validity.

Another point may be mentioned in this connection.
As the World-Spirit has shown such a terribly nega
tive character in its career hitherto, destroying one
State in order to produce a new one, can it not be made
positive, and become endowed with the universal prin
ciple of saving the State? It can be and has been —
but this lies outside of Europe and hence outside of
Hegel's horizon. The State-producing State, the
Federal Union as realized in the Constitution of the
United States, is the World-Spirit, not as capricious
and negative, but as calling forth and preserving the

THE PHILOSOPHAECH HEGEL. 809

individual State which calls forth and preserves it.
Thus Time, which is the monstrous devourerof States
in Hegel (and also in reality), is met and turned back ;
the individual State is first produced by the supreme
State or the World-Spirit embodied and realized, then
it turns back and eventually reproduces that which
produced it. This is the Occidental State which is
wholly left out by Hegel, though it was in existence
when he composed his book. And here we may add
that there are properly three Periods of the World's
History (Oriental, European, and Occidental), not
four, as Hegel says, making a division which is at
present decidedly superannuated.

It may be said that Hegel's World-Spirit is arbi
trary, destructive, tyrannical, in other words, anti-
institutional, using the State as its means or its
plaything. And this view was not untrue to the fact.
But the Federal Constitution has institutionalized the
World-Spirit, making it an inner principle of the pro
cess of the State, and not leaving it outside of the
same with its destroying might (see our work on The
State, p. 493, et passim). Evidently this last histori
cal stage, the Occidental, demands a complete recon
struction of the Philosophy of History which by its
very conception requires a new elaboration at every
pivotal epoch.

We pass to another book which springs from Hegel's
lectures during the present period, namely his Pliilos-
phy of Religion. This has also been a very fruitful
work. It is the main source of the modern higher
criticism of the Scriptures. It may likewise be con
sidered as the chief fountain of recent investigation
into the history of Religion. Hegel, however, has no

8 1 0 MODERN E UEOPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY.

religious Institution, except in a very subordinate
sense. Nor does he always distinguish between
Religion and Poetry, each of which employs the image
in Representation. He does <not seize the secular
and the religious institutions as two co-ordinate
stages of the ®ne complete institutional process —
which is the deepest fact of them both. The Church
is for him a kind of appendage to the State — wherein
again he was largely true to the Prussian reality.

Another epoch-making work of this period was
Hegel's Aesthetic. It still remains the most original
and most complete book on the Philosophy of Art.
Moreover, it is the best edited book of the series;
Hotho, the editor, shows a peculiar delight in his
business and a special talent for his task. As it
stands, it is the largest, the most intelligible, and the
most elaborately finished work of Hegel. Indeed its
size and its treatment make it disproportionate in the
total philosophic edifice. One asks, why this exces
sive self-indulgence in the contemplation of Art? Is
the Aesthetic SL kind of anaesthetic for political ills?
Is it a substitute given to a people who laek partici
pation in public life? Whatever be the answer, the
book is a great and noble production, placing upon
deep foundations the beautiful World of Art, and
also forming the most attractive entrance to Hegel's
own Temple of Philosophy.

The afore-mentioned three works, the Philosophies
of History, of Religion, and of Art are applications of
Hegel's central Idea to the highest themes. The
philosopher is popularizing his thought, is going from
within outwards to the world of immediate reality. In
his first two Periods his tendency was the other way

THE PHILOSOPHAECH HEGEL. 811

from without inwards to the center, to the Absolute.
On a number of points these three works have been
his most influential ones, being let down, as it were,
from his ideal empyrean to his terrestrial reader. For
the same reason some of the " pure Hegelians " have
been known to disparage them, in comparison with the
Logic, and even with the Phenomenology.

C. MISCELLANEOUS — THE ENGLISH REFORM BILL. —
The first word of this title indicates the extreme of
Hegel's centrifugal tendency at Berlin. He writes
reviews, articles, criticisms ; he enters periodical Lit
erature as a means for propagating his ideas, he scat
ters himself broadcast through the realm of particu
larity. Herein we cannot follow him.

Toward the close of Hegel's life Revolution again
broke loose in France (1830) and startled all Europe.
Especially the old fellows who had lived through the
Reign of Terror, the Regicide, and Napoleon, were
shaken as by an earthquake. Hegel was now of the
old ones, and he became not only anti-revolutionary
but anti progressive, even anti-constitutional, and
turned against his previous views as expressed in his
Recht ten years before.

The people and their rights became his horror -
no ballot, no free speech, no individual liberty in
political matters. Thus he reacts from his former
Prussian attitude toward a more absolute absolutism
in the State.

In this mood he writes an article on the English
Reform Bill, then pending. He takes sides against
Reform, predicts revolution in England, laments the
decay of kingly authority, censures " the weakness
of the monarchical principle against Parliament,"

8 1 2 MOD ERN E UR OPE A N PHIL OSOPH Y.

instead of which he would have " the great and wise
sense of Princes." He expresses disgust at' the free
speech, the declamation and discussion rampant in
England, for which he would substitute the "still
thoughtf ulness " of the Prussian bureaucracy.
Enough; Hegel has completely lost touch with his
own World-Spirit which will soon begin to introduce
this very parliamentary government into Prussia.

Very deep is this reaction against himself. In his
Philosophy of Right England was the European na
tion which on the whole best represented the World-
Spirit. But at present she is dethroned, and absolute
Prussia is emphatically put in her place. Yet deeper
is the scission in the soul of Hegel: he now (quite
unconsciously, it is true) renounces his former lead
ing maxim that the Real is rational, for the English
Constitution which he assails, has certainly shown
itself to be a reality in the world. But instead of ap
preciation he now criticises the Real and breaks with
it. In the meantime we have to ask: What has
become of Hegel himself? Is he not rent in twain by
his own blow when he makes the Real so very
irrational?

This article on the English Reform Bill was Heg
el's last important piece of writing for the public
(printed in the Prussian Staatszeitung, 1831). That
private letter to Gans (see prece Ung p. 646) was
somewhat later, yet in a similar mood. Hegel's
final act would, therefore, seem to be the destruction
of Hegel as the philosopher of Reality. He appears
before us dividing himself in twain, assailing and
demolishing himself. Thus the lurking dualism
which we have noticed in him from the beginning has

HEGEUS PHILOSOPHY. 813

become actual. His followers on the whole regret
this article. Rosenkranz speaks of. it with disappro
val, and seems to regard it as written in a diseased
frame of mind, since he plainly sees that his master
has here committed philosophic suicide.

Thus Hegel the Philosopharch is also dialectical,
shows himself finite and undoes himself at the end.
In his first stage we saw the evolutionary Hegel
evolving the Absolute along three lines and then
through his own Dialectic passing over into the ency
clopedic Hegel. But the latter also breaks out of
the cycle and again finds his first principle to be
evolutionary in Time, unfolding the same in the
World's History. It would seem that Hegel himself
in his Evolution quite unconsciously makes all three
Hegels dialectical, makes them stages of a greater
process underlying them all. What is this greater
process, or higher principle, as he would call it?
Repeatedly we have sought to point it out, as we have
caught a glimpse of it at the pivotal turns in the
preceding movement.

III. HEGEL'S PHILOSOPHY — OUTCOME. -- In
general Hegel's struggle lies between the philo
sophical (or metaphysical) and psychological
views of the Universe, that is, of God,
Nature and Man. This struggle has been in
Philosophy from its beginning far back in old
Greece ; but it was Hegel who brought the
two sides to the point of open battle, inas
much as his is the last and most complete state
ment of Philosophy in its entire circuit. We
have noticed a secret power breaking up from

814 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the depths of his colossal structure and compel
ling him to move to a new standpoint, which,
however, as philosophical, will bring to light the
same old difficulty. His Absolute, after being
evolved again and again, will show limitation, or,
in Hegelian nomenclature, will be dialectical.
His own weapon (the Dialectic), wielded by him
with so much skill upon other Philosophies,
turns back at last upon his own.

Evidently Hegel is inclined to except his own
system from the principle of development exist
ent in all previous Philosophies. These have
reached in him the ultimate principle underlying
and determining them in the past and seemingly
controlling them in their future unfolding. Thus
the doctrine of refutation which he applies to
others is not to be applied to his system. His is
the autocratic imperial Philosophy ruling all
Philosophies. Such is the dualism of Hegel: he
sets up an universal principle, which holds good
for all except himself. Hence his Universal is
not universal ; this law is not for all, but for all
others ; his Absolute develops a limit which con
tradicts its very nature, and subjects it to the
Dialectic.

Now we hold that this dualism is not peculiar
to Hegel; it is the dualism of all Philosophy, of
the philosophic Norm itself, indeed of the Euro
pean mind. Hegelas Europe's last great philoso
pher has simply pushed it to its ultimate spiritual

HEGEL'S PHILOSOPHY. 815

scission, and made this more decidedly explicit.
In a very different sense from what he intended
he has given us the final system of Philosophy,
its last stage of development before it passes over
into another Norm of Thought, and not into an
other system of Philosophy, which could have
nothing new to tell, being already determined in
its process and order by Hegel's Logic.

Another fact may be noted at this point.
After Hegel Philosophy scattered in all direc
tions and never since his time has it been able to
gather itself together and make a great original
concentrated effort. Undoubtedly many talented
men have appeared and have written philosophic
books not' lacking in bulk or quantity. But they
are relatively small, they are asteroids which
seems to be the fragments of some huge philo
sophical planet which has exploded and strown
its particles through the Heavens. The age of
the Philosopharch has been followed by the age
of the philosophules — the little philosophers
who write big books. And "it cannot be helped;
the trend of the time is decidedly out of Philoso
phy and into something else — what? Or to use an
Hegelian phrase, the World Spirit has distinctly
refused to incarnate himself in any philosopher
since Hegel. Again one asks, What is the rea
son? We recollect that proud declaration gf
Hegel in his opening address at Berlin, proclaim
ing himself in substance to be the World Spirit

816 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

incorporate, no longer as conquering Napoleon
but as triumphant philosopher. And for a time
he made good the claim, though his Philosophy
also had to go the way of Napoleon's conquests.

Thus in Hegel European Philosophy can read
two leading facts: first, the very bloom of the
philosophic thought of the ages and also its doom.
Its terror at its future fate can be discerned in
the whole body of philosophers since Hegel, for
they with great unanimity preach sonie kind of a
reversion to -former philosophers — to Plato, to
Leibniz, to Spinoza, and specially to Kant.
" Back, back from the dangerous precipice, from
the final jumping-off place of all Philosophy un
covered to our vision by that Hegel,"* and they
often cast bitter reproaches upon our philosopher
who has only unfolded into full daylight what
lay in Philosophy from the beginning.

Perhaps we ought not to speak of daylight in
connection with Hegel, the most recondite and
hence the most difficult of philosophers. Though
he often objects to abstraction, he of all men who
have employed human speech, is the most ab
stract, more so than Aristotle who is no weakling
in this respect. Hegel has not merely single
abstractions, but builds vast temples out of them,
like his Logic. It may be said that Hegel pushes
Philosophy as the abstract science to the very
limit of intelligibility. The Hegelians them
selves very often berate not only others but one

EEGEU S PHIL OSOrilY. 8 1 7

another with the reproach : You do not under
stand Hegel. The significance of this fact should
be noted. The separation of Philosophy from
concrete human consciousness has reached its last
stage, it has become in Hegel so far removed
from the Ego, that the latter can find it only
with the greatest toil and outlay of patience.
Philosophy has indeed been the grand educator
of man to thought, which always requires this
act of abstraction or self-alienation. But the
self-alienation required to grasp Hegel is so great
that the Self seems in danger of never getting
back home from its alienation. Hence the cry
of the Ego in the reader runs through all Hegel
in an undertone which is often tinged with
despair : Bring me back to myself out of these
o-hostly regions, point out in me the living coun
terpart of these pale abstractions of the philoso
pher, restore me from this desert to drink again
of the Artesian well of my own Ego.

Such is the cry of Psychology to Philosophy,
which has been heard all down the ages, some
times low and sometimes loud, till in Hegel's
Logic it becomes a piercing scream for help. It
is no wonder that Philosophy herself took a
deadly fright on beholding these abysses of her
own soul, and began a rapid retreat back to for
mer ages, as already observed. But the World-
Spirit does not march that way, and moreover is
not inclined to be panicky, but quietly takes an-

52

818 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

other protagonist when the former one drops to
the rear. Verily the new science of the Spirit
is demanded. The question rises: if Philosophy
posits its abstract categories as the principles of
things, what posits Philosophy doing this? Or
what is the philosophy underlying and moving
this Philosophy? Clearly the Ego of the philos
opher is the secret demiurge who has been work
ing this spectacle of abstractions, and not merely
" looking on." That Ego must now come forth
and take its place openly in the process, no
longer an unnoticed manipulator behind the
scenes. Then indeed occurs a grand metamor
phosis of the whole philosophic spectacle, the like
of which has been rarely seen in the ages. The
Nineteenth Century moves on with its marvelous
Evolution, which in the end cannot help evolv
ing that which evolves Evolution itself. For
also underneath its spectacular shifting of Forms
philosophical, physical, historical, lurks that
same secret demiurge whom our reader will now
surely be able to identify.

Can we not conceive the old, time-honored
philosopher transforming himself also, along
with his science? Can he not be brought to give
forth what he really is rather than something
which he has made and seeks to impose exter
nally upon his pupil or disciple? Better than to
teach the Absolute is it to teach every man to
make his own Absolute, to teach not simply

HEGEL' 8 PHIL 0 SOPHY. 8 1 9

Philosophy but the power to create Philosophy.
Then the philosopher will impart not merely
absolute science but impart himself creating
absolute science . That which makes him
philosopher is surely his creativity, not so much
his ready-made doctrine. Undoubtedly the latter
has also to be; thought must formulate itself,
but its ultimate doctrine must be just this power
of self-formulation. Can Philosophy teach every
man to be his own philosopher, and thus reach
down to the originative sources of its own being
and impart the same to human souls? Every
Ego is destined ultimately to be creative, and
hence must formulate its own Absolute. But
this is not all : at the same time it must formu
late itself as the formulator of the Absolute and
thus include itself in its own process with the
Absolute. This, however, is no longer Philoso
phy strictly, but Psychology (or Psychosiology).
The Ego as creative sees and formulates its pro
cess (the Psychosis) as the absolute process
creative of it and of all things (the Pampsycho-
sis). From this point of view it must make and
restate not only Philosophy but all science.

820 M ODEEN E UROPEAN PHIL 0 SOPHY .

2. 2)arwin.

The general relation of Hegel to Darwin can
not be better illustrated than by citing some pas
sages from the former's Philosophic der Natur:
" We are to consider Nature as a system of stages,
of which one necessarily proceeds from the
other;" but this process " is not a creation of
Nature herself, but of the Idea which constitutes
the ground of Nature." Hence it comes that
" the transformation of the shapes of Nature is
the work of the Conception (Begriff), since the
latter's change constitutes the only Evolution"
(s. 32). Thus the logical Conception is the
inner moving principle in Nature, whose unfold
ing is consequently adjusted to the movement of
the Logic. Hegel goes on to say that " the rise
of the more developed animals out of the lower
must be rejected by the thinker" (Do. s. 33).
It is manifest from these citations that Hegel
does not accept Evolution or the immanent
development of Nature through herself; in fact,
he uses the word Evolution (s. 34) to designate
the before-mentioned ascent of the lower forms
of Nature up to man. The term, therefore, had
been in use before Darwin and Spencer, with the
same meaning as theirs.

The preceding view must be regarded as

DAE WIN. 821

one of Hegel's worst mistakes. In the most
emphatic manner the next generation after
him contradicted his statement. Darwin shows
in Nature an immanent development, which
refuses to allow the logical categories to be
clapped on externally to her own native un
folding. Physical metamorphosis is not "the
work of the Conception," but is Nature's own
work. It is manifest that Darwin puts an end
to all Philosophy of Nature, in so far. as it
imposes its categories a-priori upon the physi
cal world. And yet Hegel along with Dar
win is an evolutionist, but he believes only in
logical Evolution, which is autocratically to be
applied both to Nature and to Mind. Nature
refuses to be thus dominated and asserts her own
inborn right to Evolution through Darwin.
Strictly Hegel is not consistent, not truly univer
sal in his evolutionary doctrine, since he denies
its application to the physical world. At once
Evolution, in order to evolve itself completely,
must proceed to deny his denial and to transcend
his limit. This is the function of the next great
epoch of Evolution, the second stage of it in the
tbtal movement of the Nineteenth Century.

Thus, the second stage of the philosophic
Norm — Nature — now works itself out inde
pendently, in its own right, through its own evo
lutionary process, affirming itself to be not de
termined by any metaphysically stem. Darwin-

822 MODEEN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

ism is a kind of Declaration of Independence on
the part of Natural Science. Of course Darwin
knew nothing of Hegel, but the time was work
ing in both of these men, each of whom had his
own distinct task of expressing a separate stage
of Evolution as the one underlying movement of
the Century.

But we are to see that Darwin like Hegel has
his limit. Evolution has in the end to evolve
itself in order to be complete. As the evolver of
Forms, it must evolve a Form which evolves it;
if it cannot, then it manifests its imitude just at
this point of inability to win completely itself.
In other words Evolution cannot in strictness
stop till it evolves an Ego which evolves it, namely
E volution o Of course Darwin does not reach,
does not try to reach such a result. Darwin is
an Ego which turns back to its beginning as man
ifested in organic Forms, and sees itself unfold
through all these shapes up to its own external
shape in the Human Body. Here he substan
tially stops, even if he casts many glances beyond
into the psychological realm. But on the whole
Darwin does not grasp his Ego evolving itself as
such, but evolving itself through organic Forms
of Nature, and this is his special sphere. He is
inclined to limit his vision to seeing the Evolution
of his own organism. Darwin then does not
evolve Darwin, except as corporeal. For the

DARWIN.

evolutionist, to be complete, must evolve the evo
lutionist evolving Evolution.

It is manifest that Darwin has deeply re-acted
against the old metaphysical conception of Nature ,
who in his hands is made to evolve herself freely
from within and to unfold through her own cat -
egories and not through those taken from some
outside science. This is a great deed, certainly
one of the chief spiritual factors of the Century.
Nevertheless we are to see that Darwin on an
other side still belongs to the philosophical (or
metaphysical) movement of the ages. Out of his
Ego he projects an abstract category, like Evolu
tion, and never brings it back to the Ego, identi
fying its process with the same. In this sense
he is still philosophical, not psychological, be
longing to the old Discipline and not to the new.
Darwinism is, therefore, still a Philosophy of
Nature but in a wider meaning of the term than
heretofore. It asserts its place in the History of
Philosophy, even if it refused to be determined
by any foreordained philosophic system.

With this very brief statement of Darwinism
we shall have to stop, though it deserves a full
exposition as one of the chief spiritual move
ments of the Nineteenth Century. We can only
say at present that we hope to return to this
subject, which involves a Psychology of Natural
Science, and to present our thoughts upon it,
which have occupied us many years.

824 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

3,

The Evolution of the Soul in correspondence
with the Evolution of the Body has been strong! v
felt to be a necessary continuation of the doc
trine of Darwin who has sent many flashes into
this realm which on the whole lies beyond his
own. Just as man's organism contains within it
all the animal forms through which it has passed
in its ascent, so man's soul contains the psy
chical attributes of these animals, and is really
built of them. It is a collection of impulses and
instincts sprung of the organic life of the past
and inherited by the present. Psychical Evolu
tion is thus the complementof organic Evolution.
Hence the great effort which succeeded Darwin's
organic history of man, has been to discover the
corresponding psychical history of man.

In this work two investigators have distin
guished themselves — Spencer, an Englishman,
and Wundt, a German. It is as yet an open
question which of the two deserves the greater
credit. Both have their warm defenders, but
time has not yet assigned the palm. Their period
is too recent; one died but a few months ago,
and the other is still living, though an old man!
The Tribunal of the Ages at the date of this
writing (spring of 1904) has not yet rendered a

PIJYSIO-rSYCHISM. 825

decision, and probably will not for some years to
come. Certainly we have no power to give judg
ment in the case.

The result is that this third stage in the philo
sophic movement of the Nineteenth Century can
not be personalized, cannot be concentrated in
one individual philosopher, as has been always
the case hitherto. Here, then, is the single ex
ception to the tri-personal movement which we
have seen to be in every Century of modern
Philosophy. The end, for the present, at least,
is dual, illustrating possibly the outcome of
Philosophy, and in this state it has to be left.
Still there is no doubt that the doctrine has dis
tinctly appeared and made itself valid as the
third stage of the Century's movement. It is
commonly known as physiological or genetic or
experimental Psychology ; its best epithet would
be evolutionary.

Its chief means are observation, and specially
experiment. In the latter the Ego is subjected
to manifold influences artificially prepared in
order to make it reveal its past stages of devel
opment in gradation. These stages lie deeply
imbedded in our unconscious life, till they are
brought to the surface by some external stimu
lation made ready and applied for that purpose.
These are the psychical phenomena of the un
conscious Ego, whose science constitutes a new
Phenomenology suggesting Hegel's, which is

826 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

the development of the forms of the conscious
Ego. Physiological Psychology thus has in it a
return to Hegel's Phenomenology which it fills
out by giving the antecedent forms of the uncon
scious Ego. In fact Darwinism, evolving its
line of organic forms up to man as its phenomena,
shows itself to be a kind of Phenomenology also,
incorporate in animal shapes, and so has its
counterpart in the inner movement of the shapes
of consciousness which unfold in a line of ascent
up to the Absolute in Hegel's work. Thus the
last stage of the Century's thought bends around
(so to speak) and interlinks with the first. The
evolutionary Hegel as individual Ego had as his

supreme task the evolution of the Absolute

such was the first stage of the Century's thought
whose last stage is the Evolution of that indi
vidual Ego, which constituted the real starting-
point in evolving the Absolute.

Thus Physio-psychism manifests a strong
reaction against the old metaphysical Psychology
which imposes its categories taken from some
philosophical system upon the free Ego, though
this originally made the system. Herein the
movement has undoubted validity, even if it be
but a preparation for something better. As
Darwinism freed the Science of Nature from a
Philosophy which determined it from the out
side, so Physio-psychism has freed the Science

PHYSIO-PSYCHISM. 827

of the Soul (Psychology) from the same external
domination.

Still this liberation is by no means complete.
The Evolution is still externally produced, chiefly
by experiment; it is not yet inner Evolution of
the Self. The procedure is derived from physi
cal Science and hence is as foreign to the Ego's
own movement as is the metaphysical procedure.
Its fundamental category, Evolution, is taken
from Darwinism. Thus the Ego has gotten rid
of one tyrant only to be ruled by another. Still
there is progress. The Ego of Spencer tracing
its stages through all its past forms is moving
toward its completeness in self-consciousness
which sees itself as the reproducer of its whole
history. Still, Physio-psychisrn never fully
grasps its own act. Wundt makes his Ego call
up its former states by outer stimulation; but
the true finality is Wundt's Ego doing this very
thing, returning upon its total past and so
re-creating itself in its entire sweep. And not
this alone, for there must also be the correspond
ing formulation; the Ego must be taken up into
its science as re-producing that which produces
it. But therewith we .have transcended the
limits of Physio-psychism. Evolutionary Psy
chology has unfolded not merely a line of Forms,
but the Form of all Forms, which goes back to
the beginning and evolves itself evolving all
these Forms. Thus Evolution has evolved out

828 MODERN EUROPEAN PHILOSOPHY.

of itself into that which makes it and becomes
an element of the total process of the new
Discipline. In this way what was implicit in
Physio-psychism and in the entire Nineteenth
Century with its threefold Evolution has become
explicit and a reality in the start of a new epoch
of thought. It may be said that Evolution
determined the last Century, but the present is
to determine Evolution.

Moreover we can now look back and see that
the philosophic Norm with its three stages — the
Absolute (God), Nature, and Man (the Soul) —
have been evolutionary in each case. Hegel's
chief work is the Evolution of the Absolute,
Darwin's is the Evolution of Nature culminating

o

ill the human organism, Physio-psychism is the
Evolution of the Soul, as far as this science goes.
And each of these stages of the Norm has
asserted its own inner independent Evolution,
even if it did not and could not fully carry out
its assertion. So we can say that the Century
itself turned philosopher and formulated its
principle of Evolution according to the philo
sophic Norm. Really this is the end of the old
way of philosophizing, in which the first stage
of the Norm (as logical or metaphysical sys
tem) determined the other two stages.

The result is that the Nineteenth Century
through its Evolution undermines while following
the philosophic Norm of Thought. This does

PHYSIO-PSYCHISM. 829

not mean that it has destroyed the Universe of
the Absolute (God), Nature, and Man (Soul),
hut it has broken through and out of the philo
sophic formulation of the Universe and is bringing
to light another and more complete formulation
of the same. Man is now the starting-point, the
third factor of the old Norm has become the first
in the new one, humanity is to have the primal
stress in the fresh creation of the Universe of
Thought. Man openly determines the Norm
which determines him, he is to re-create the
Absolute which creates him, or, as we say politi
cally he is to make the law which governs him.
(For a more extended development of this prin
ciple at which we have here arrived, see our
former work, Ancient European Philosophy, p.
29, where the three supreme Norms of Thought,
religious, philosophical, and psychological, are
characterized. We would recommend to the
reader who wishes to see the entire circuit of
the History of Philosophy, to read the whole
introduction to that work, and to observe that
the present conclusion has brought us back, and
also forward, to our starting-point. In such a
mental act he will also pass from evolutionary
Psychology (Physio-psychism) to the self-
returning Psychology, which we may call, if
the word Psychology be worn out or ambiguous
through its various usages, by the new yet sim
ilar name of Psychosiology, or the science of the
Psychosis.)

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